


M.I.N.E (End This Way)

by insanechayne



Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, I hate AUs why am I writing this, I promoted Rick up to Detective for purposes, M/M, no walkers or apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:36:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 59,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanechayne/pseuds/insanechayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THIS IS AN AU FIC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.<br/>Detective Grimes hauls Daryl Dixon down to the station on drug charges, but ends up addicted to his particular brand of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What's The Matter Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [monica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monica/gifts).



> I really don't like AUs so I honestly have no idea why I'm writing this.  
> I know I said I wouldn't be writing anymore long chapter fics on account of starting my novel, but I guess I'm just a slave to my addictions. Blame Monica for this, since that bitch put this idea in my head.  
> Updates may be few and far between, because I'm going to do the best I can to continue working on my novel at the same time, so if you don't see new chapters up for days at a time just be patient and don't freak out.  
> Also, 100 points to whoever can correctly guess which band/album the song I'm using for my story's title comes from.

The heat was sweltering, a thick blanket covering the vast expanse of Georgia’s backwoods, and Detective Rick Grimes had to wipe the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand more than a few times.

Damn summer heat wave had kicked in now that it was mid-July, and he could swear the pits of Hell had simply swallowed Georgia whole in their horrible, fiery maw. The last thing he wanted to be doing that day was try to catch a perpetrator, but the job required it of him; detectives stopped for nothing but death.

He’d had to park his car about a block away from the offender’s house, so as not to alert them to his presence before he could get the drop on them, and had to walk all the way up to their front door. He desperately wished he could remove his suit jacket, but then he would look unprofessional, and God forbid one of the detectives not look perfect and proper in the eyes of criminals, or supposed-criminals.

The house he was visiting today belonged to the Dixon family, a rough-and-tumble trio of muscled and ragged men. The father, whose name he’d never bothered to learn, and the two brothers, Merle, who he’d had to deal with a few times, and Daryl, who he’d seen mostly in passing as he came to collect his brother from a jail cell.

The charges this time around were about illegal substances. A couple of meth-heads had been taken into custody, and the word around town was that one, or both, of the Dixon boys were dealing. Rick had the honors of dealing with them because they could have information about a big-time supplier, or cooker, or boss, which was vital to the investigation that was soon to be ongoing. Usually the beat cops or deputies picked up the druggies and got the information out of them, but the detectives had to deal with any higher-ups, which included small-time dealers selling out of their backwater shack near the woods.

To tell the truth, Rick really wasn’t looking forward to this case. His partner, Detective Shane Walsh, was laid up in the hospital with a collapsed lung due to being shot in the back by some criminal or another from their last assignment, and so Rick had been set-up with someone else. Detective Morgan something-or-other.

Where the hell was Morgan, anyway? Oh, wait, he had to pick up his kid, Duane, from school. After the boy’s mother had died, Morgan was the only one there to keep him on the straight-and-narrow, which meant taking him to and from school, and everywhere else he needed to go, and not leaving him alone for too long. It wasn’t a very good position for a detective, but as long as Morgan managed to pick up his end of the slack Rick wouldn’t complain.

Rick crossed the lawn, overgrown with weeds, and made his way up the few breaking steps onto the porch. It creaked under his weight, the wood beginning to rot in some places, and he prayed that it wouldn’t break in the middle of his visit. He knocked on the door and stood back, straightening his jacket and tie.

“S’open.” Rick heard someone faintly shouting from inside.

He felt uncomfortable just opening the door and barging into someone’s home, but he pushed the feeling of unease aside and cautiously made his way into the house.

“Mr. Dixon?” Rick called out, his voice reverberating on the walls.

As he stepped into the front room his eyes fell on a table in front of the ratty sofa. On top of that table were a few titty magazines, a joint or two, and one very large back of Glass. Rick sighed heavily; whoever was here would be getting arrested today, and that would probably entail a fight.

“Mr. Dixon, I need to speak with you.” Rick called again, resting his hand on the holster at his hip.

Daryl Dixon came from around the corner, a sandwich in one hand and a can of beer in the other. His hair was longer than Rick had remembered it being, his bangs falling into his eyes, wispy sideburns covering his ears, tendrils curling at the back of his neck. His bright blue eyes were heavy-lidded, yet still observant, giving Rick a very long once-over. Rick felt somehow awkward under the weight of Daryl’s stare, and prayed that he wasn’t blushing and making a fool of himself.

“Whatcha want, city slicker?” Daryl asked, shoving the end of the sandwich in his mouth and taking a giant bite.

Rick cleared his throat. “I came to ask you a few questions about the rumors spreading around that one of the Dixon men has been dealing drugs. But now that I see you are in possession of illegal substances I am going to have to place you under arrest.”

Daryl’s eyes widened and he made an odd sound, as if he had chocked on his food. His eyes wandered over to the stash of meth and weed on the coffee table and widened slightly. “That ain’t mine. Them’s Merle’s shit. I ain’t never touched that meth crap.”

“Mr. Dixon, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present at any time during your questioning process. If you do not have an attorney one will be provided to you at the expense of the government. Do you understand your rights as I have told them to you?” Rick, keeping his hand on his gun, reached into his pocket and pulled out his handcuffs.

Daryl didn’t speak, simply stared at Rick’s encroaching form. He dropped his beer and sandwich and darted towards the front door, hoping he’d be able to get around Rick and make it into the woods before the detective could catch him. Unfortunately for him, Rick had been expecting that reaction.

Rick’s body tensed, every muscle tingling like a live-wire, and his arms shot out, catching Daryl around the waist before he could make it to the exit. Rick wrestled Daryl to the ground, trying to ignore the feeling of the redneck’s lithe body wriggling underneath him, and pulled his hands around his back to handcuff them.

Daryl struggled under Rick’s weight, trying to buck the detective off of him. “C’mon, man, I said they ain’t mine!”

Rick hauled the man to his feet, guiding him toward the front door. “I’m going to take you down to the station for questioning. We’ll get this sorted out then.”


	2. Sooner Or Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title didn't fit as well as I hoped it would. I guess I was trying to convey that sooner or later Rick would get Daryl to answer his questions? I'm not even sure anymore.   
> I hope you enjoy regardless, since I'm a little iffy about this chapter.

The ride down to the station was a relatively quiet one. As soon as Rick got him in the back of the car Daryl closed up, wouldn’t say a word, and just stared out the window at the passing trees and buildings. Rick glanced at him in the rear-view mirror a few times, and had to practically force his eyes to go back to the road lest he stare at that boy forever. There was just something so appealing about the way Daryl’s hair fell in his eyes, shading his cloudy gaze from view.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t much of a struggle to haul Daryl into the station and seated in one of the various interrogation rooms. His muscles never relaxed, and he still refused to speak, but at least he went along willingly enough.

Rick left Daryl alone to stew for a few minutes, grabbing both his and Merle’s files, along with a tripod video recorder. He flung the files onto the desk haphazardly, the slam causing Daryl to jerk backward slightly, and set up the camera so that it would clearly record both interrogator and suspect.

“Alright, Mr. Dixon, before we begin, could you state your name for the record?” Rick asked as he flipped through the paperwork in Daryl’s file.

“Daryl,” He grunted, keeping his eyes fixedly pointed toward the table.

“Y’mind if I just call you Daryl?”

The other man shrugged, a slight movement of the planes of his shoulders so brief that Rick almost missed it.

“Well, then how about you call me Rick? Don’t need all the formalities here.” Rick offered a smile, but Daryl just glared at him. “Do you want anything, Daryl? A coffee, or a soda, or maybe some water?”

Daryl thought it over for a moment before asking, “’S’alright if I smoke?”

“Sure, Daryl, that’s no problem. Let me get you a Styrofoam cup to use as an ashtray, hmm? Then we can get down to business.” Rick rose from the table and briskly left the room, letting the door slam behind him.

Rick could just tell that Daryl was going to be difficult, though not in the traditional sense of being uncooperative. There was a feeling building at the bottom of Rick’s stomach, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was almost like the way he felt when he first asked Lori on a date all those years ago in high school.

They had been seniors then, though Rick had been admiring her from afar for at least two years. Shane had even gone after her once, though she’d politely rejected him, telling him she had another boy in her life at that time. Rick had been discouraged by that information, but after two years of waiting and watching and listening to the gossip of the grapevine he figured out that she’d never had another guy at all, she just wasn’t all that attracted to Shane.

Rick wanted to ask Lori to the Prom, but it was months away, and no way she’d say yes if he didn’t at least speak to her sometime before that. So he settled for Homecoming. He asked her to go with him to the football game, and out for dinner afterwards, figuring that if all went well he could also ask her to the dance. He could have been knocked over with a feather when she actually said yes and smiled that bashful little smile of hers.

Rick had felt sick to his stomach with nervousness the entire week before he finally worked up the courage to say the words to her, and he swore he would throw up all over her by the time he managed to track her down at lunch to ask her.

He felt that way now, though without the nauseous aspect. There was nothing in his stomach to throw up in the first place, so that wasn’t much of a concern, but he did feel jittery, like he was seventeen again and wringing the strap of his backpack in his hands as he desperately tried to think of what to say. Odd, considering he was simply interrogating Daryl Dixon about illegal substances.

How many people had he taken into custody, sat in that very same chair in that very same interviewing room with that very same tripod video recorder focused on them, and asked every question under the sun until they finally cracked? And not once had he felt even the slight bit nervous, save for on his very first case as a detective, and that was to be expected of a rookie.

So what was it about Daryl that made his stomach flip-flop every which way it could? Daryl was a man; Rick didn’t like men. Or at least he didn’t think he did. He’d never been attracted to a man before, anyway. But there was something special about Daryl; something in the way his shoulders sagged in defeat, something in the way his muscles flowed beneath his skin, something in the ferocity of those bright blue eyes, something that reflected years of pain but a soul still intact. Rick couldn’t help but want to figure out the man’s mysteries, and set his burdens free.

But he didn’t have time for all of that poetic bullshit right then. He had a job to do, and damned if he wasn’t going to do it just because a few emotions were getting in the way. Rick pushed those thoughts from his mind as he grabbed two cups from beside the water dispenser, leaving one empty and filling the other with the somewhat warm water, just in case.

~ ~ ~

“You got a girl, Daryl?” Rick asked, setting both cups in front of his suspect before moving around to the other side of the table and sitting once more.

Daryl raised one eyebrow, his gaze piercing right through Rick. “What’s it matter?”

“I’m just trying to get to know you better is all.” Rick shrugged nonchalantly, flipping open his pocket notebook and uncapping a pen. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, Carol.” Daryl placed a cigarette in his mouth and lit up, taking a long drag before looking at Rick again.

Rick felt some odd form of disappointment settle into him at Daryl’s words. Why did he care whether or not Daryl had a girlfriend or not?

“What’s her last name?”

“Peletier. She kept it after her husband died. Ain’t never changed it back to her maiden for some reason.” Daryl blew a plume of smoke out toward the ceiling, watching it swirl through the air.

Rick could only vaguely remember the woman Daryl spoke of. She had hair that only came to about the middle of her neck, colored a soft white-ish gray, and blue eyes that were full of life, yet heavy with broken dreams. She’d been the one to collect her husband after bailing him out of his domestic abuse charges.

_“The black eye was my own fault, honest.” She laughed nervously as she touched a finger to the edge of the swollen bruise, a slight wince tearing her face apart for a fraction of a second before her smile was back in place. “Ed would never hurt a fly, unless they hurt him or his family first. He’s a good man, you know. Provides well for me and Sophia. This is all just a big mistake, really it is.” She pulled her daughter slightly closer, smoothing a hand over the girl’s blond hair, trying to keep the fear from bouncing around in both of their eyes lest Detective Grimes see through her façade._

Ed had died in jail, apparently of suicide, though the stab wounds that littered his body had been overlooked by most everyone in the department once they saw the noose around his neck. _Good riddance_ had been the mutual thought of everyone at the station that day.

Rick nodded as he looked over the name written down on his notepad. He supposed it made sense for them to be together, seeing as how the same pain was present in both of their eyes.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Rick asked.

Daryl bit at his bottom lip, letting smoke out through his nostrils. “Well, I actually ain’t seen her in a while. Two weeks, at least. We kinda had a fight, an’ she said she didn’t wanna see me no more. Said she was goin’ back up to her momma’s house somewhere in one’a them upper states.”

“So you two are broken up, then?” Rick’s tone was a little too enthusiastic, but Daryl didn’t seem to notice.

Daryl just nodded, taking a final drag of his cigarette before stamping it into the empty cup in front of him.

“Let’s talk about your brother for a minute. You said the stash in the living room was his, correct?”

“Well, it sure ain’t mine. Guess it could be our daddy’s, but I doubt he’d ever leave is just sittin’ out like that fer any damn cop t’see it.”

“Where is Merle today, anyhow?” Rick folded his fingers on top of the tabletop, watching Daryl with calm, observant eyes.

Daryl didn’t seem any more or less nervous at the mention of the stash or his brother, not like he’d been when talking about his and Carol’s fight. Either he was an excellent liar, or he wasn’t involved in his brother’s dealings; Rick was, for some unknown reason, vying for the latter.

“Not sure. Haven’t seen ‘im since late yesterday afternoon.” Daryl shrugged again, this time meeting Rick’s stare, his eyes never wavering.

“Did he say where he was going yesterday?”

“Somethin’ ‘bout headin’ on up to Billy’s.”

“And who’s Billy?”

“Guy who runs the lil’ no-name bar in the sketchier part of our neighborhood. For all I know Merle’s still buried balls-deep in some lil’ hussy’s pussy, hungover from last night. ‘S’where he usually is on Fridays and weekends.” Daryl smirked, but not humorously. This small curvature of his lips seemed to be made more in disgust than anything else.

Rick nodded, a gentle bob of his head, and then proceeded to write down what Daryl had said.

~ ~ ~

Two hours, one blood test, and one follicle test later Daryl Dixon was free to go. No illegal drugs showed up in his system or in the hair sample they had plucked from his scalp, and simply being in the same house as a dealer didn’t make him a criminal; he couldn’t exactly help where he lived or who he was related to.

Plus witness statements from the low-life druggies collected from the streets proved that Daryl had never dealt drugs in his life, and that Merle was the powerhouse operator in that little scheme. None of the withdrawl-suffering convicts had ever seen Daryl before.

Rick escorted Daryl out of the building, stopping him at the end of the parking lot.

“If you think of any information that could help in this case, please give us a call.” Rick slipped a slim paper card into Daryl’s outstretched hand.

Daryl looked at the card for a moment, and then snorted. “I ain’t rattin’ out my brother.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Rick nodded to the other man, who continued to stare at him incredulously.

Finally, Daryl shook his head and turned to walk away. Rick watched him walk away, his eyes travelling to the sway of the redneck’s hips, and that same nervous feeling seized him once again. A sudden impulse fired through his veins, and he could practically feel the invisible force pushing him towards Daryl’s retreating form.

Rick had enough instincts to know that when fate pushed you in a certain direction you didn’t fight it. Steeling his resolve, he darted after Daryl, catching his shoulder just before he turned a corner.

Daryl’s body tensed, his hands clenching into fists, preparing to defend himself, but when he saw that it was only Rick he relaxed. “Whatcha want now, Rick?”

Rick swallowed roughly, his face flushing a light pink color. “Daryl, uh… would it be alright if I called you sometime?”

Daryl’s eyes widened slightly, taking in the sincerity in Rick’s deep blue eyes. Was Rick trying to flirt with him? He’d never been hit on by another man before; no other man in his right mind would even think of crossing that boundary for fear that Daryl would put him in the emergency room. Being with another guy hadn’t ever really crossed his mind before, at least not in any seriousness. He’d wondered a time or two what it might be like to be with the same gender, what the sex might be like, if the relationship would differ greatly from that of a female’s, but he’d shaken the thoughts away; he didn’t want to be labeled a queer.

But something about Rick’s clean-cut, angular face sparked that same bit of curiosity in him once more, and, surprisingly enough, he found himself whispering, “Yeah, that would be great.”


	3. What Lies Beneath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is supposed to be kind of like what lies beneath Rick's subconscious mind. Not sure that came across very well.   
> I'm also not too familiar with the type of sentence that would be doled out for some of the crimes mentioned in this chapter, even though I probably should. In any case, please forgive my ignorance on the subject.   
> Enjoy.

Rick got home around eight that night, his eyes about ready to fall closed the second he stepped foot inside of his apartment. The day had been long, and he felt almost as if it would never end.

The rest of his day had been spent chasing leads that turned into dead ends. A beat cop making his rounds on patrol thought he had seen Merle leaving a downtown liquor store, but it had turned out to be a much older man who happened to have a similar build to Merle. Otherwise there was no sign of the older Dixon brother anywhere around King County, or on its outskirts. Rick figured he’d heard the cops were on his trail and had decided to lay low for a while, maybe out in the woods or even in a neighboring state. In any case, he doubted they’d be seeing hide or tail of Merle Dixon for quite a while, and that made things just that much tougher.

At least Daryl wasn’t the one they were after. But why did that mean so much to Rick? Why did he care so much whether or not Daryl got thrown in the slammer? He’d barely paid the boy a passing glance in all the years he’d had to deal with the various members of his family, so why did he have such strong feelings towards him now? All in all it was a very confusing situation for Rick.

Rick had pulled the Dixon boys’ files, just in case there was anything in them that could give him a clue as to Merle’s whereabouts. He stopped by the fridge on the way to setting his things down, grabbed a beer, and then propped himself up on the couch with the folders.

After taking a hearty sip from his bottle he set it down on the coffee table in front of him, and then sat back, rifling through the papers. He went through Daryl’s file first, because it was much thinner than his brother’s. Daryl had been hauled in twice on assault charges, both times for beating down one guy or another in a bar who’d smart-mouthed him. Daryl’s statements said that both times the guy he’d sent to the hospital had dared to make a remark about his dead mother, and that was something he just wasn’t going to tolerate. Neither of those men had pressed charges against Daryl, and so he had been released a few days after his initial processing.

The only other thing in his file was a D.U.I charge from a few months back. Carol had bailed him out, surprisingly enough, and then he had dropped near off the map. He still worked at the same auto-repair shop that he had two years ago, still lived in the same ramshackle house with his brother and his father, still lived the same mostly uneventful life that he always had.

 _I wonder if he ever gets lonely, or tired of his situation. I wonder if he ever longs for something better._ Rick mused to himself, setting the slim folder aside.

He threw the folder down on the table beside his beer bottle and picked up Merle’s, propping his feet up on the glass surface as he leaned back once more. Looking through that stack would take a lot longer than the simple glance he’d given Daryl’s; Merle’s rap sheet was near as long as Rick’s arm, his folder at least triple the size of his brother’s.

Rick sighed as he flipped the cover open, Merle’s mug shots grinning up at him with some odd sort of satisfaction. A grimace curled Rick’s upper lip, and he had half a mind to just close the file and set it aside for some other detective to sort through. But he had been assigned this case, and he’d see it through to the end, even if that meant staring at the pictures of Merle’s ugly face.

Rick skimmed through Merles’ various charges, not giving one any more attention than the next. The older Dixon had been in and out of jail since he was fifteen, with a brief period of peace when he was off with the Marines, and his file was practically a rainbow of various crimes. Arson, assault, date rape, drug abuse, D.U.I; he was even a suspect in a manslaughter case that had taken place about five years back, though there was nowhere near enough evidence to stick him with the crime.

There were only two things that really stuck out to Rick: hunting out of season and without a permit, the punishment of which went unenforced, and an accidental forest fire apparently started by still burning end of one of his cigarettes. The fire had really been started because he had a fairly large quantity of PCP in his system at the time and thought the trees were trying to pull him down to his grave, but that was neither here nor there.

These two charges stuck out to Rick because they had happened within the same stretch of wooded area, and they showed that not only did Merle seem to like the forest, at least for certain recreational activities, but he knew how to hunt and hid out there when he took hallucinogenic drugs. It could have just been coincidence, but Rick had a strong feeling that Merle would be in the woods when he was found. He’d even have a couple of the boys go have a poke around those woods tomorrow when he got in to work.

Rick laid Merle’s file aside and picked up his beer once more, finishing it with a few long swallows. He’d had as much of this case as he could handle for one night, and all he wanted to do now was take a nice, hot shower and get into bed.

~ ~ ~

Rick pulled on a pair of fitted blue boxers, the cloth hugging him snuggly just the way he liked, and crawled under the covers. He still slept on the right side of the mattress, next to the bedside table where his lamp and cell phone charger resided, even though he owned a king sized bed.

His bed had been lonely ever since Lori left him, the emptiness on the other side of the mattress like a void just waiting to suck him into it, and he could never bring himself to move to the middle to sleep. Just seeing the spare pillow across from him, like an island in the middle of an open sea, cut deep through his chest.

Rick didn’t miss Lori, not really. He just missed having another warm body to cuddle up to at night. Sometimes he wished she were still there beside him, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb as she gazed into his eyes, because she had carried that sense of love with her, and he needed that love at times. But he’d learned to live without her.

_“We never talk anymore.” She stared at him, her eyes piercing his own, and he was amazed to see the tears just beginning to pool in the corners of her eyes. She was leaving him, wasn’t she? So shouldn’t he be the one crying?_

_“You’re always at work, even when you’re not there physically. And I understand that your job is very difficult, of course I do. I know that the things you must see and deal with everyday… I know you have nightmares sometimes. But you never let me help you; you never let me inside. A relationship is supposed to be built on trust, right? But if you can’t trust me enough to tell me the things that bother you then I don’t think we can be together anymore. When you close off like that… well, it scares me, Rick.” She was full on crying then, barely able to speak through her sobs._

_He, on the other hand, was pretty much emotionless. He felt no sorrow at her leaving, no urge to beg her to stay with him and just give him one more chance. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her; he just didn’t know what to say or do in this kind of situation._

_“Sometimes your eyes get this haunted look, and sometimes you just stare at your gun, and it feels like you’re thinking about eating a bullet. And I don’t want to come home one day to see you splattered all over the walls, dead and gone. So I’m going, before you pull us both into this...  this void you’ve managed to get yourself sucked into.” She slammed her suitcase shut, and then slammed the front door for emphasis, and still he felt nothing._

_He wouldn’t feel much of anything for several hours, and by that time he would already be half-cloaked in dreams, his mind conjuring up the sweet scent of her perfume and the gentle curve of her hips, and suddenly he would jolt upright in bed, forcing the screams to stay lodged in his throat while the tears poured down his cheeks. He would wake up that way for several weeks to come._

Rick lay on his back, his eyes trying to find the ceiling in the darkness shrouding his bedroom. He didn’t want to think about Lori, but his brain didn’t seem to care. He could picture her in near perfect clarity; the way her dark brown hair waved over her shoulders, her slender neck and pronounced jawline, her slim waist and curved hips.

Suddenly she image in his mind shifted, taking on an entirely different form. It wasn’t Lori he saw now, but rather Daryl. Daryl, with his long, shaggy hair, bright blue eyes, broad shoulders, muscular arms, and perfect frame. The man’s lips had looked so kissable in the interview room, wrapped around the filter of that cigarette like they just needed something between them to be at peace. And the sway of his hips when he walked down the street had been so alluring. Even under the baggy clothing it was clear that the man had an ass worth bragging about.

Rick fell asleep to the picture of Daryl that floated behind his eyelids. In his dreams he and Daryl were lying on Rick’s great big bed, doing things that neither of their dad’s would like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last line, beginning after the comma, is a spin-off of a lyric in the song Up All Night by Hinder. It just seemed fitting, so there it is.


	4. Days Go By

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, finally, this chapter is finished.   
> I'm sorry it took me so long to get this done and posted. I've been really tired lately, and under a lot of stress, which has taken away all my motivation to write. Plus trying to figure out what my brain is more in the mood to write, this or my novel, ends up with me not writing much of anything.   
> I'm just glad it's written and done with now. 
> 
> Alright, so the chapter title refers more to the end of the chapter, but whatever.   
> Enjoy.

Daryl sat on the front porch, a can of cheap beer held in one hand. The night was still, calm, a gentle breeze blowing and taking away from the heat of earlier in the day. The stars were out, the moon was full, and Daryl could swear he heard an owl in one of the trees next to his house.

No cars were out at this time, considering he was in a small, if not shabby, neighborhood off the outskirts of town. His mind was near as blank as the road, though a few thoughts in particular kept buzzing back into his head every so often. Daryl tried to swat these thoughts away, tried to keep his mind clear and at peace, but they persisted.

These thoughts were all focused on Detective Grimes, and what his parting statement could have meant. Daryl was fairly certain that Rick had been hitting on him, but if that were the case why did he say yes to the man’s question?

If Daryl were being honest with himself, which he was trying hard not to, he had quite liked Rick’s kind blue eyes, clear as the sky on a perfect summer’s day, hovering over his face and trying to capture his own gaze. He hadn’t felt uncomfortable under Rick’s stare, nor did he feel the need shut the man out with a cold front and gruff demeanor. In fact, the only time he did feel uncomfortable was when he was talking about Carol. Somehow he’d felt all too relieved to let Rick know that they were no longer a couple; he’d felt almost freed by the admission, open to all the new possibilities of the world, and for a fleeting second a voice at the back of his head wished for Rick to be that possibility.

He’d never felt that way about another guy before, and he shuddered to think of what Merle or his father would say if they knew. Merle would probably give him a swift punch across the jaw or two, tell him not to be such a fuckin’ pansy ass. But Merle wasn’t here, and he didn’t know, nor would he ever.

While his thoughts were still safe inside his own head, Daryl decided to let his imagination run free. He pictured him and Rick off in some private area, maybe even down by the creek, since he’d never seen anyone else around there; Rick was kind and gentle, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. And then Rick came a little closer, their faces just inches apart, and Daryl could feel the heat rising into his cheeks even over the fantasy.

In his mind Rick was just about to lean in and kiss him, when a loud thud resounded from the back of the house and promptly brought Daryl out of his daydream. Within seconds the beer can was resting on the table where Daryl’s large bowie knife had previously been sitting, the blade gripped tightly in his fist as he quietly made his way into the house.

Daryl could hear muffled mumbling coming from one of the back bedrooms, and as he got closer he realized it was coming from the room he and Merle shared. Someone probably tried to climb through the window and ended up getting caught on the ledge; that had happened to Daryl a time or two when he’d forgotten his keys and had ended up locking himself out. But why would anyone want to break in here in the first place? There was nothing of value in the old shack save for the TV that sometimes worked, which was mounted in the living room out front. Maybe they were a friend, or enemy, of Merle’s? That was more plausible, and in that case they were probably searching for Merle’s stash, which had already been collected by the police as evidence.

Daryl let out a sharp exhale as he gripped the doorknob in his free hand, steeling himself for whoever was in his room, and then threw open the door. He leapt forward, ready to shove the knife into the mystery person’s throat.

“S’that any way to greet yer family, baby brother?” Merle’s voice floated to him from across the room.

“Merle?” Daryl asked, confused, and flipped the light switch.

The lamp spilled its yellow glow over the room, washing over Merle. He looked horrible, his eyes bloodshot and feral, his nose red and slightly swollen, a bruise shading one cheek. He was most likely stung-out, coming back to the homestead for one more fix before taking off for wherever he planned on hiding out until the situation calmed down.

“Nah, it’s yer Great Aunt Sally. ‘Course it’s me, dickweed. Couldn’t exactly waltz on through the front door lookin’ as how I do, now could I?” Merle shook his head and then kneeled beside his bed, his hand searching frantically for any spare drugs he may have hidden there.

“Cops a’ready cleaned the place out, Merle. Stripped the place clean; ain’t nothin’ left of your stash.” Daryl spoke calmly as he leaned against the wall.

“Fuck!” Merle shouted, slamming his hand down on the mattress. “Guess I’ma have to go on back to Billy’s, see if I can’t bum somethin’ offa him.”

Merle turned his wild gaze onto Daryl, his eyes seeming to pierce right through the younger man. “Now you listen t’me, baby brother. I’m skippin’ town fer a while, gonna hide out in the woods. One of the boy’s got a shack out there, deep in the trees n’ shit. When things start calming down around here you go to Billy an’ tell him t’pass the word on t’me. That’s when I’ll come back, and then I’ll get my ass back inta the game, make us some dough. Got that?”

“Yeah, I got it, Merle.” Daryl tucked his knife into his belt, and then made his way back to the front porch, his beer, and his fantasies.

~ ~ ~

A week had passed, and still Daryl hadn’t heard anything from Detective Grimes. He had to admit that he was a little disappointed. When Rick had asked if it would be okay to call him, Daryl had figured the man would probably do so within a few days, talk to him on the sly about whatever was on his mind, maybe even ask to see him again. At least that’s how it played out in his dreams, and in the few shitty romances he’d seen in his life.

But Rick didn’t call, and Daryl grew more bitter with each passing day. Rick was no different than anyone else in Daryl’s life; they got his hopes up and then they left, and he never heard from them again, or if he did it was never under good circumstances. He shouldn’t be so hung up over another man, anyway, or at least that’s what he tried to tell himself.

Rick had meant to call Daryl, he truly had, but the case was beginning to overwhelm him. He had to re-interrogate every druggie the cops had hauled in over the past year, had to go down to Billy’s and talk to him, along with every customer who’d ever walked in the damn place who even knew Merle’s name, had to track down Carol and ask her about her relationship with Daryl, and had to review Merle’s enormous file more than a few times. He was exhausted, damn near dead on his feet, and found it hard to concentrate on his work because his mind seemed more focused on Daryl than anything else.

Finally Rick had had enough. He needed to see Daryl as soon as possible. He had a free weekend lined up, bought with hard earned vacation time and sick days that went unused, and he planned to spend at least one of those days staring at Daryl’s beautiful face.

~ ~ ~

Daryl sat on the couch watching some mindless program that happened to be playing on one of the still-working channels on his television set. He wasn’t paying any attention to it, though, because he was working on getting himself blind drunk. He was on his fifth beer, and was in a nice little headspace, when the phone rang.

Daryl groaned as he pushed himself off the couch, tottering slightly as he did so, and made his way into the kitchen, where the phone hung on a wall.

He picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Is this Daryl Dixon?” The voice on the other end asked. That voice seemed familiar somehow, but in his addled state Daryl couldn’t quite place who it belonged to.

“Yeah.” He huffed, taking another swig of his beer.

“Oh, um… hi, it’s Rick.”

Suddenly Daryl was more alert than he’d been in days. His eyes shot open wide, his stance taking on a straighter position, and he tried to breathe around the lump in his throat.

“Whatcha want, city slicker?” Daryl asked, his tone playful, the hint of a smirk curving up his lips.

Rick chuckled softly on the other end before speaking again. “I just wanted to ask if you’d want to grab a cup of coffee with me tomorrow?”

Daryl thought it over for a moment. Rick was asking him on a date, which meant a line had been crossed. Now Daryl had to decide whether he wanted to step over the boundary and meet Rick on the other side, or whether he wanted to retreat back into his lonely shell of solitude.

Daryl expected to say ‘no’, could practically feel the word bubbling on his lips, but what actually came out was, “I’d prefer a shot or two of whiskey, but I guess coffee’ll do just fine; they go down ‘bout the same anyway. Where y’wanna meet?”


	5. Alone Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really feeling this chapter today, so I'm glad I got it written and posted for you guys to read.  
> The place that Rick and Daryl meet, Pete's Café, is based on a place in West Hills, CA called Muddhouse Coffee. A few of the details of the building's inner and outer appearance may be a little bit off, considering I haven't been there in a little while, but it should be relatively accurate. If you live in an area around West Hills then you should definitely get over there and get one of their scones, because they are the fucking bomb. My favorite, currently, is the toffee chip scone, so I certainly recommend that one.  
> I'm not really sure why I decided to call the place Pete's instead of just Muddhouse, but that doesn't matter now I suppose. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the new chapter!

Pete’s Café was a hole-in-the-wall type of place a few miles from the police station and Rick’s apartment. The place was made of dusty red bricks that could probably use a paint job, and there was a jade green awning covering the area above the door and window; most people would walk right by this place without ever giving it a second glance, but to Rick it held a certain charm, like it was something out of a stereotypical romance novel where two lovers meet after one accidentally spills coffee on the other; Daryl would have the same thought as soon as he saw the building.

It was surprisingly bright inside the café, and the walls were painted a soft, daisy yellow, which gave it a homey sort of glow. There was a counter in front of the window with four stools in front of it, and two electrical outlets on the wall above the countertop; for some reason people who brought laptops preferred to sit facing the window, with their backs to the rest of the shop. The whole left side of the store was taken up by large pastry cases, as well as the cash register and coffee makers and a sink or two; Pete’s was known for its scones, which were the best in town, though very few people were actually aware of that fact. On the right side were two sofas done in a caramel-beige sort of shade, with one medium sized end table placed between them. Magazines littered the table’s surface, coffee rings decorating the wood that could be seen from under the pages. Towards the back were three tables with two chairs to them each, though truth be told the tables were barely big enough for one person to comfortably sit there, let alone two. After that the walls grew narrow and jutted into a sharp corner, which turned left into an even narrower hallway that led to the back kitchen area, manager’s office, and bathroom.

When Daryl walked in the door, his hair disheveled from riding Merle’s motorcycle over (he knew he shouldn’t be using the bike, but Merle wasn’t around to tell him otherwise, and without Daryl the poor thing would have already rusted clean into front lawn), the guy behind the counter gave him a polite smile and chirped, “Hi there. What can I get for you today?”

“One sec,” Daryl mumbled as he surveyed the glass cases, his eyes scanning the scones for the perfect one.

Daryl had quite a bit of a sweet tooth, especially for soft, warm, pastries; often times the thing he missed most about Carol was her baking ability, because she made the best biscuits and pies. After staring just a little too long at the tantalizing scones, he decided on one that proclaimed to be toffee chip. After receiving his scone and large black coffee, he turned and scanned the area for a place to sit while he waited for Rick.

Luckily for him, or perhaps unluckily considering his stomach was a tangled mess of nerves, Rick was already there, seated at the table closest to the back corner. Daryl made his way over to the detective, standing awkwardly beside the table as Rick looked up and noticed his presence.

Rick smiled wide, his face seeming to light up at the sight of Daryl, and the redneck could feel his cheeks flush in response. “Please sit, Daryl. It’s nice to see you.”

Daryl nodded as he took the seat across from Rick. He didn’t have any idea what to say to that sort of remark; no one had ever been happy to see him before. But Rick was waiting for him to say something, and so he blurted out, “S’pose you called me out here t’ask me s’more questions about my brother?”

Now it was Rick’s turn to blush, his face taking on a gentle shade of pink. “Actually, no, that’s not why I asked you here.”

Daryl had known as much from the second Rick had called him the night before, but he needed to have Rick confirm his suspicions, needed him to validate his thoughts and make them real; he didn’t want to roll up here thinking he was on his very first date with a guy if the other man was just thinking about his job.

“So why _did_ ya want me t’meet with ya?” Daryl’s tone was harsher than he’d meant for it to be, causing Rick’s blush to deepen.

“I just wanted to see you, and talk to you without the case getting in the way.”

“S’this is a date, then?”

Rick looked a bit like a tomato, his face was so red. “Um, well, kind of, I mean...” Rick stammered, his eyes pointed down toward his coffee cup. He was floundering, searching for some kind of other explanation for what this time between them could possibly be classified as, but nothing else was accurate enough. Finally, after taking a deep breath and a sip of the hot coffee for courage, he said, “Yes.”

Rick was fully expecting Daryl to be disgusted. He figured the other man would walk out of the café, or maybe throw coffee in his face, or even punch him right in the mouth, but Daryl didn’t do any of those things.

Daryl surprised Rick by saying, “Figured s’much when y’called me last night. T’be honest, I don’t mind; if I did I wouldn’t have agreed t’come.”

Rick was even more shocked than before, his jaw dropping near down to the floor at the other man’s admission. He looked up at Daryl, trying to catch his eyes, but the redneck was staring at the wall as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, his own face taking on a very alluring shade of pink.

Rick managed to recover, clearing his throat. “Thank you for coming, Daryl.”

Daryl nodded, his eyes still not meeting Rick’s. His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and emotion, the same questions about his sexuality battering against his head like an angry ram. Everything was so hard to process with Rick not two feet from him, looking at him with those perfect blue eyes; just his presence was enough to put Daryl into an internal tizzy. Daryl had to ask himself once again, am I really into guys? But the question wasn’t really about other guys in general, it was about one guy in particular: Rick. And Daryl was very much into Rick.

Maybe talking would help him figure things out. Maybe if he asked, Rick would tell him that he felt the same way, and then Daryl wouldn’t have to feel so self-conscious about the whole thing.

“Rick, would y’mind if I asked ya somethin’ kinda personal?” Daryl’s eyes flickered to Rick’s face, gauging his reaction.

The inexpressive mask that Rick used during interrogations was in place, his features blank. “Go for it, Daryl.”

Daryl thought about how to phrase his question for a moment, hoping for a wording that wouldn’t offend the detective. “Well, y’don’t seem like a batter fer the other team, if y’get my drift. Have ya always been swingin’ this way, ‘r did y’like skirts at some time?” As soon as he finished pushing the words out Daryl clasped his bottom lip between his teeth, praying that Rick wouldn’t take things the wrong way.

To Daryl’s amazement, Rick smiled kindly at him. “I did like women – do like women. I’ve only ever had girlfriends in my life. I never even considered another man… until I met you. And I know that sounds cliché and stupid, but there’s just something about you, Daryl, that’s so appealing to me. I don’t know what it is, and I can’t explain why I feel this way. But the second I saw you, the moment I looked into your eyes, I knew that you were someone I needed to get to know better. I’m not going to say any shit about soul mates and love at first sight, because then I’d really sound like an idiot, but at the very least I can say that I knew you were the one guy I’d want to try something with, if you’d let me.”

Daryl stared at Rick, listening to his answer. So Rick felt the same way he did, thought the same way he did; just knowing that he wasn’t alone in that made Daryl feel slightly better.

“What about you?” Rick asked suddenly.

Daryl looked up, startled. “Huh?”

“You weren’t always this way, right? You did tell me about Carol, so why did you decide to go down this path?”

“Same reason as you, Rick. Just somethin’ special about ya; don’t know what it is. I waited a whole damn week fer yer phone call, damn near jumpin’ outta my skin every time the phone rang, each time hopin’ it was you on the other end fer any reason at all. Hell, I’d have even been happy t’come down t’the station again an’ answer more questions just t’see ya. Yeah, I like gals; still got a soft spot fer Carol, if I’m tellin’ the truth. But I like you, Rick. And I think I might like t’start somethin’ with ya, if that’s what you’d want.” The blush that had been on Daryl’s cheeks a few minutes returned, deeper and darker now, and he was almost certain that Rick would be able to feel the heat radiating off of his skin with how closely they sat.

Rick’s smile widened, and he reached out, laying a hand on top of Daryl’s. He stroked the back of Daryl’s hand gently with his fingertips, glad that the redneck made no move to pull away. “I do want that, Daryl, very much so.”

Daryl’s lips curved up in a smirk. “This mean yer gonna call me again, city slicker?”

“You bet your sweet ass it does.”


	6. How Much Is Real? So Much To Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty much filler while I figure out where things should go. I have an overall idea of how I want it to end and everything, it's just trying to go chapter by chapter that's hard. Plus there's still my novel to deal with, and I'm co-writing on a tumblr blog (reedus-dixon-fanfics.tumblr.com in case anyone was wondering). So there's a lot on my plate right now.   
> Not to mention the fact that writing romance is really hard, especially for a pairing I've already written two long fics for, even though this is an AU, and due to the fact that I don't actually believe in love.   
> But I digress.   
> I hope you don't mind me babbling about things pretty much covered for an entire chapter. I just need a little more time to get into the swing of things, and then everything's gonna heat up real fast, I promise. This fic is gonna be good, I just need to work out the kinks.   
> Anyway, enjoy.

Daryl lay in bed that night, unable to sleep. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t get his mind to shut off. Flickers of the afternoon played behind his eyelids like film reels, over and over again as if they were stuck on repeat.

Finally, when he’d tossed and turned enough to practically throw his back out, he drew back his thin comforter and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He rubbed one hand over his face, his fingers grazing his coarse beard stubble. He needed to be outside in the open with the breeze of a crisp night blowing over him, needed to look out over the wide expanse of nature and remember that he wasn’t cooped up in some cage, but was free.

Daryl decided that he would climb up to the roof and look at the stars; he’d always liked doing that as a child. He flung open his window and crawled out, using the ledge for leverage as he reached out for the drainpipe. Once he had a firm hold on the slim metal tube, he shifted one foot onto a bracket holding the pipe in place, inching the other foot along the ledge as he did so. Luckily, the tree in his backyard had grown since he was a kid, and a few branches were hanging low towards the house. He was able to swing his foot around to the other side of the bracket, and then brought his other foot up to a slightly higher bracket, bracing himself against the drainpipe as he stretched his arm out to grip the closest branch. His fingers latched onto the branch easily, and he shoved himself away from the house, towards the tree, by pushing his feet against the wall. He swung briefly through the air before being able to get his other hand onto the tree. Once both hands were on the branch he was able to hoist himself up and into the cradle the other branches around him had made. From there all he had to do was inch forward and, at the right time, spring onto the roof.

He landed on the balls of his feet on the roof tiling, a muted thud echoing around him. He thanked his lucky stars that his father still wasn’t home; had the old man been around he’d probably have been awoken by Daryl’s midnight acrobatics and come out with his fists up.

Daryl inched over to the chimney and clung onto it as he lowered himself into a sitting position. He pressed his back to the brick facing of the chimney, and then he could see the sky in all its vast glory, out to the forest’s horizon in the distance. The breeze tussled his hair, his lungs filling with the sweet, fresh night air, and he felt at peace.

The peace didn’t last long, however, as images of Rick invaded his mind once more. Daryl’s mind kept coming to rest on Rick’s eyes, how perfectly clear and blue they were, nothing to mar them. Daryl’s own eyes were a much duller shade of blue, nothing special, nothing anyone would actually want to look at for hours on end as he longed to do with Rick.

Those waters had seemed so bright when Daryl had looked into them earlier, even under the not-so-bright lights of the café. And somehow they seemed to glow when Rick looked at Daryl, as if Daryl were the best thing Rick had ever laid eyes on. Just thinking about that intense gaze the detective had made Daryl blush, the heat splotching his cheeks in pink.

And yet Daryl still could not fully comprehend his feelings for the other man. There was an attraction there, that much was certain, but it was like there was some otherworldly pull he had to Rick, as if they both had magnets strapped to their bodies that gravitated toward the other.

Daryl looked up at the stars, wondering if they could help his predicament. The pinpoints of light twinkled in their inky indigo sea, but held no answers to his burning questions. They did seem to soothe him, though, and so he stared at them as he thought.

Even though they’d only parted some odd number of hours earlier, Daryl longed to see Rick again. He wanted nothing more than to let his eyes travel the planes of Rick’s face, committing every contour to memory and observing the way every rise and fall of word or breath changed those features. He wanted to trace those lines with his fingertips, see if they felt hard like his own bone structure or soft like Carol’s or something in between. More than anything he wanted to find out what Rick’s lips felt like; they looked smooth as satin, and he imagined that they felt something akin to silk.

He found himself hoping that something more came out of their tentative relationship. He wanted their first gaze, the thing that somehow drew them both together, to bloom into something worth fighting for. Daryl had never believed in that soul mate crap, but he was starting to second guess that.

~ ~ ~

Somewhere across town Rick stood on his balcony, watching the small flow of traffic passing below him. Streetlights were on, blocking his view of the sky, and so he settled on watching headlights pass lazily through the semi-dark streets. He, too, was replaying his and Daryl’s time together. Their first date.

Daryl had looked so alluring with his hair mussed from the motorcycle ride, his cheeks bitten through with pink splotches from the constant breeze that had battered against them. Rick had wanted to reach over and run his fingers through those strands, push them back into their proper place, see what they felt like against his skin.

Rick had never really believed in soul mates and love at first sight, but he was starting to question how much of it was really false. He could still remember their first meeting the week prior, the spark of electricity that ignited in his veins when their eyes locked. He’d been all too aware of Daryl after that, the way he walked and talked and positioned his lithe body during the questioning. And he could swear there was some unseen force trying to shove them together. That was why he’d approached Daryl on a more personal basis after the interrogation; he felt like he’d been pushed towards the redneck, as if someone had placed both hands square on his back and just _heaved_ him into the other man.

There was something between them, Rick was sure of it. Now all he had to do was get Daryl to fall for him, though judging by the man’s demeanor that could be more of a problem than he expected.

~ ~ ~

Somewhere around two in the morning both men went to their respective beds, crawled under the covers, and wished the other were beside them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to throw out some ideas they have for this fic then please feel free to do so. Who knows, you might give me inspiration, and then I'll work your idea into the story.


	7. Once Bitten, Twice Shy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I was dog-sitting for my mom at her place while she was out of town, and I never get anything done over there for some reason. At least the chapter is done now. 
> 
> I really hope the title for this makes sense, because I went through like four options before finally settling for this one.   
> Also, I find this chapter a little weird, because I feel like it starts out choppy and then gets oddly poetic. But I like the way it came out, so I hope that you do, too. 
> 
> One more thing, the lyrics Rick thinks to himself (the longer, more poetic ones) are from the song Recover by Device, which is one of my favorites by them, in case anyone would like to go check it out. 
> 
> Alright, enjoy.

The next day Rick dressed in his finest suit and tie, shoved his badge into the front pocket of his jacket, grabbed his briefcase, and headed over to Daryl’s house. He was trying to make it look like he would be there on official business, just in case anyone in Daryl’s neck of the woods happened to see him over there.

Butterflies raged in his stomach as he drove over, his cheeks burning with some odd form of embarrassment. In truth, this probably wasn’t his best idea. Daryl might be upset with him for simply showing up on his doorstep uninvited, regardless of the cover he was providing. People who knew Daryl might spot the two of them, although that hadn’t even crossed Rick’s mind until he was already too far out to turn back.

Well, he would just go with his original plans and let the chips fall where they may. Maybe Daryl wouldn’t be that angry, after all, since he’d been the one to ask about a second date in the first place. At least, Rick hoped Daryl wouldn’t be too mad.

Rick pulled his nondescript car up to the curb in front of Daryl’s house and straightened his tie, mentally preparing himself to go up to the front door. No doubt Daryl had already heard the car’s approach and knew he was out there, just waiting for him behind the door with some kind of urgency. But Rick had to work with some kind of script, just in case a neighbor or passerby happened to overhear.

 _Just say what you said to him the first time you came here; say that you have some extra questions to ask him, but that they weren’t important enough to make him come down to the station. It’s not that hard._ Rick thought to himself, the eyes staring back at him from the visor’s mirror full of nervous excitement.

It really wasn’t a hard mission to accomplish, but it felt so much different now. Maybe it was just because Rick knew it was a lie, and he always had a bit of a struggle lying in the past, but he thought that it actually had to do with the fact that he was quite certain he was in love with the redneck behind that shabby wooden door. And that thought sent a thrill of fear through him, but at the same time it electrified his heart with some kind of otherworldly energy; he felt more alive than he had since Lori left.

 _‘Jump start my kaleidoscope heart’, isn’t that how that one song went?_ Rick mused. _That song didn’t have anything to do with love, though, and it wasn’t much my style._

_‘A bleeding heart that once was broken in time can be commended and fulfilled this night. No secret thought will go unspoken, and I can turn this flood into an ocean tide. I see the glimmering of hope in your eye. It seems our destinies are one. Let us make whole what was broken tonight. Let what was dead be awoken tonight.’ Now those are some lyrics I can get behind. Plus that song is actually pretty good; I wonder where I put that CD._

_But that doesn’t matter now. Mustn’t get sidetracked. I’ve been sitting out here for almost five minutes, and if I didn’t seem suspicious before then I certainly do now. Better get my ass on into that house; we’ll be safe once we’re both tucked away inside those walls, right?_

Rick broke off his train of thought there before it could get any more twisted and make him sit in that car any longer. With a sharp exhale of breath he grabbed his briefcase and exited the vehicle.

~ ~ ~

Daryl didn’t fully understand how he’d come to be making out with the incredibly hot detective on his ratty living room sofa, but he wasn’t about to complain about the turn of events, especially not when Rick’s more experienced tongue was tracing the contours of his lips with such a gentle touch that he couldn’t help but part them.

At this point everything was a blur to the two, both of them more focused on the present moment than how it had come to be. If you asked either of them what had happened ten minutes before they wouldn’t be able to tell you anything except that Daryl had pushed Rick’s suit jacket off and loosened his tie, and Rick had, at some point, unbuttoned Daryl’s plaid over-shirt to reveal the hard, tanned muscle beneath.

In reality, things had gone as smoothly as Rick had imagined they would. He walked at an even pace up to Daryl’s front door and had rapped his knuckles against the wood three times, and then he stepped back a bit to wait. Daryl, though he’d been anxiously staring out the door’s peephole since Rick’s car pulled up to the curb, had waited fifteen seconds before actually opening the door, realizing the importance of the charade he’d been pulled into; had to make it look like he’d at least walked to the front door from the kitchen.

Daryl had put on a sneer as he pulled the door aside, though it was hard not to let his face light up at the site of his favorite detective. Rick had mumbled some line about needing to ask him more questions and Daryl had stepped aside in the most reluctant way possible.

Once he shut that door, though, the atmosphere had instantly changed. Rick’s face broke into a wide, perfect smile, and Daryl couldn’t help from doing the same. And when Rick had placed a hand on Daryl’s shoulder and pulled him slightly closer, the redneck didn’t resist, but rather welcomed the touch. He had a pretty good idea of what Rick wanted to do, and for a moment he was still wildly unsure. But as Rick leaned in to press their lips together Daryl felt all of his worries melt away with the flashburn of heat that burst from his chest out into the rest of his body.

It was a gentle kiss at first, tentative and careful, guarded yet somehow still open. Rick allowed Daryl every chance to pull away, to state that he wasn’t ready for such affection, but that thought hadn’t even crossed the other man’s mind. And so Rick kicked things up a notch, pressing his lips just that much more firmly against Daryl’s, trying to meld them together so that he might feel their satin texture for all eternity.

Daryl responded better than expected, matching Rick’s force and raising it. Daryl had stopped thinking by then, and was simply letting instinct take over. He brought one arm up and wrapped it around Rick’s shoulder, his hand going to the back of the man’s neck and curling into the soft strands of hair there. He pulled Rick closer with an almost animal-like ferocity, something that surprised Rick in the pleasant way a young boy might be surprised with his very first bike or BB gun at Christmas.

That was when Rick had unbuttoned Daryl’s shirt, the need to touch every inch of him almost overwhelming. Daryl pulled back slightly once his shirt was fully unbuttoned, his chest and abdomen exposed to Rick’s eyes and hands. He had a fleeting feeling of self-consciousness, but that disappeared the second Rick’s fingers made contact with his skin.

Continuing in the same vein of undressing that Rick had begun, Daryl nearly tore the suit jacket from Rick’s shoulders, dropping it haphazardly onto the floor. He managed to just loosen Rick’s tie, but gave up on trying to undo it completely; his fingers had never been nimble enough for ties.

In the middle of all that they had found their way onto the couch, and now their bodies were pushed against each other, their tongues fighting for dominance behind their lips, and Rick had one arm around Daryl’s waist, pulling him closer, tighter. The other hand was inching its way up the redneck’s thigh, so close to the center that Daryl was starting to make tiny whimpers that drove Rick crazy.

Rick’s palm cupped Daryl’s crotch, his thumb kneading small circles into the stiffness there, and that’s when Daryl’s eyes flew open. He practically jumped back against the arm of the couch, his mouth pulling away from Rick’s with a soft popping sort of sound, and he looked a lot like a small, frightened boy.

“Daryl?” Rick asked, his tone gentle, his expression confused.

“M’not… ready for that yet.” Daryl blushed hotly, his cheeks flaming bright pink, and looked away from the detective in front of him. He expected Rick to be disappointed, to grab his things and leave.

Daryl was shocked when Rick, instead, said, “I understand.”

He chanced a glance up at Rick, and the man was smiling warmly, his eyes showing nothing but kindness.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to Daryl. Hell, I’m happy just to get to spend a little time with you. I’m not expecting anything from you.” Rick reached out and gently laid a hand on Daryl’s shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

Daryl nodded, and then inched closer to the detective. Tentatively, he leaned in and pecked Rick’s lips. Rick returned the peck with the same amount of caution, giving Daryl all the space he needed.

“When m’ready,” Daryl said as he pulled back, “it’ll be with you.”

“I’m willing to wait for that day, for as long as you need me to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably seem like a random side note, but I've been having the oddest urges to write a Richonne fic lately, so I might actually start that tonight.   
> If I do start the other fic it'll be titled Black Velvet, and it might make the updates for this chapter come at even later times than usual. I'll see if I can balance the two along with my novel to get everything churned out at a regular pace.


	8. The Last Thing I Had Was You Whispering Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter has taken such a long time to get written and posted. I've been dealing with a lot of stress lately due to wondering when I'd be starting my new job, and just other life things. Luckily I had orientation today, and have work all the rest of this week, and will be getting hours after next week, so that takes away a large chunk of stress and anxiety. And I was so happy I had to celebrate by writing a new chapter. 
> 
> Because of the job I may not have time, or motivation, to write much, which could mean late chapters becoming a norm. I apologize for that in advance, if it does happen. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope this chapter title doesn't sound too odd or vague.  
> And I hope you all enjoy this chapter.   
> So yes, enjoy.

Daryl folded his arms across his chest, similar to the way a person who was hugging themselves would, though he’d never admit to doing something so pansy-assed as that. Somehow keeping his arms wrapped over each other and pressed so close to his body held in the lingering warmth of Rick’s last embrace that he so desperately clung to.

Rick was the first person to show him any true form of love or compassion, and he longed to bask in that glow for the remainder of his days on the earth. However, real life was intervening, and all he had of that fantasy was this soft fire burning through his chest, and the scent of Rick’s cologne still floating on an invisible cloud around his body.

Daryl sighed lightly, closing his eyes as he breathed in the now familiar smell. It was fresh and crisp, like the ocean and vodka mixed together, both of which were things that Daryl greatly enjoyed. But there was a sweetness there, too, something heated and spicy, something he couldn’t quite name. It could have been something similar to burning firewood, or a half-smoked cigarette, or a charred piece of paper, or maybe just the smoky, wonderful smell of fire itself.

Yes, that had to be it, the scent of fire off a struck match. Most people didn’t seem to realize it, but fire had its own scent, one that was faint yet still powerful, and Daryl could spot it in a second. It could be found on freshly struck matches, before the flame charred the wooden matchstick; it could be smelled when you flicked on a lighter, but only for a second, because after that the burning butane inside wafted into the equation and marred the fire’s purity. It was a scent that was just on the surface of whatever it was burning, just like sunlight on pavement. Sunlight was pure white and could be seen floating just above what it touched, but the around corrupted it; only on water could you truly see it with any clarity, because the water reflected it back at you like a mirror without destroying it.

A faint thumping sound from the back of the house brought Daryl out of his odd reverie, and he instantly perked up. He swiftly turned and made his way down the hall, patting his pocket for the switchblade there.

 _Merle, if that’s you again I swear to God. Ain’t no cops gonna catch yer lily ass in the dead of night, not ‘round these parts; just come through the fuckin’ door._ Daryl grumbled internally to himself, part of him hoping that it was just Merle so that he wouldn’t have any trouble tonight, part of him hoping that it wasn’t just so he’d have the chance to vent some anger on the poor sucker who tried climbing through his windows.

His bedroom door was already open, and all he had to do was reach up to the left and flick on the light switch. Light flooded the room and, sure enough, there was Merle looking pissed off, and perhaps like he could use a hit.

“Goddammit, Merle, what the fuck do you want now?” Daryl shouted, both relieved and angry that it was just his brother standing in front of him.

“So yer a candy-ass now, that it?” Merle spat, taking a step toward his younger brother.

“What the fuck r’ya even talkin’ about?” Daryl huffed, rolling his eyes.

There was something in Merle’s eyes that Daryl didn’t like, something wild and feral and stone cold. For the first time since his early teens, Daryl felt genuinely afraid.

“How long ya been takin’ it bent over from that badge, huh? S’that why he let y’go the other day, ‘cause ya ‘convinced’ him ya were innocent with that little slut mouth’a yers?” Merle was sneering now as he began to move closer to Daryl.

The words all clicked into place, and Daryl realized that somehow Merle knew about his carryings-on with Rick. They hadn’t been careful enough, they had slipped up somewhere along the way. Sure, they’d only had two dates, one of which was way out in the city where no one had been likely to see, but someone must have. Daryl knew this had all been a huge mistake, but he just hadn’t been able to say no to Rick; he wished now that he’d had more willpower.

Daryl put on his most shocked, confused face and mumbled, “Merle, yer not makin’ any sense. You find a stash out in the woods ‘r somethin’?”

Suddenly Merle was right in front of Daryl, his arm swinging out and connecting with Daryl’s cheek so fast that it was just a blur before the blow actually landed. Daryl was knocked back against the door frame, the wood catching him between the shoulder blades; a flare of pain burst there, but was overshadowed by the flashbombs of agony going off in his jaw and nose.

Daryl’s mouth filled with blood, and he spit it in the direction of Merle’s boots, looking up at his older brother with hate-filled eyes. “What the fuck was that for, asshole?!”

If Daryl’s vision hadn’t begun to double he might have hit Merle back, given him a run for his money, but that one hit packed a wallop; it was probably due to the fact that Merle was strung-out and overly antsy.

“Mike Hanlon saw you leave on my bike the other day, ride off into the city. Earlier today he saw some fancy-ass city man walk on up here, flash a badge and some pretty words, and you let him on in. Now, Mike knows Billy. You ‘member Billy, right, baby brother? Well, good ol’ Billy Denbrough is one loyal sum’bitch to me, an’ soon as Mikey told him, he came out ‘n told me. So of course I hadda haul ass on out here, check out this lil’ problem for m’self, and what do I see soon as I come up on the house? Why, you’re letting Mr. Sweet Suit out the front door late at night, lookin’ around all suspicious like, an’ then kissin’ him flush on the lips. So d’ya wanna explain this t’me, baby brother? I mean, maybe ol’ Merle here’s just gettin’ on in years, goin’ a bit senile, ‘r maybe bein’ strung-out’s makin’ me hallucinate. But it sure seemed t’me like you two’ve been hidin’ out in the closet fer a bit, maybe suckin’ the root.” Merle leaned in close to Daryl, his hot breath blowing over Daryl’s face. Merle’s eyes bored into Daryl’s, flickering with vengeful fire and hard as steel.

Once again, Daryl was afraid. He had hoped Merle would never find out about this, that he’d be so far in the woods he’d never come across them by accident, and that no one would ever see enough to get the information back to him. He didn’t quite understand what he and Rick were doing himself, so how could he explain anything to Merle?

And then, things only got worse. Daryl’s lips tingled, his throat vibrating with the words being pushed out, words that he had no intention of saying, words that didn’t make sense, words that he hadn’t even thought were true until this very moment. “But, Merle, I love him.”

Where had that come from? Daryl had never said those words to anyone in his life, except his parents, and that didn’t count because he’d never meant it when he said it to them. He didn’t even believe that love existed, much less that he could be _in love_ and especially not with another man. But he’d blurted the words out all the same, and found that they were true. He did love, Rick, with the entirety of his being.

Merle’s face changed. The anger and hatred that had been etched into his features just moments before was no longer there, and instead a sort of emptiness had taken their place. Merle’s face had no expression, his eyes no longer blazed, and he looked like he’d been frozen in time.

Merle’s arm shot out again, this time his fist connecting with Daryl’s torso. Daryl’s breath rushed out of him in a whoosh, and he groaned as his stomach constricted; he thought he might vomit all over both of them. But there was no time to think of throwing up, because Merle was rearing back for another hit. The next one caught Daryl under the chin, sending his head flying back into the wood frame with a sickening crack.

Daryl could swear he was trying to move through quicksand with how muddled his head felt right then. His vision swam, blurred either by tears or whatever had been knocked out of place with that blow, and he could feel the shadow of unconsciousness creeping up to claim him. He barely even noticed that Merle was pummeling him with the force of a freight train, never registering the punches that landed on his long-worn body; the only one that roused him even slightly was the swift knee that planted itself into his groin. And that’s when he did throw up, the contents of his earlier meals spewing over Merle’s combat boots and the wood-barely-covering-dirt floor and his own bare feet. His stomach heaved and roiled like a storm on the sea, and he began to cough and choke on the blood that was getting caught in his throat.

Merle waited until Daryl had settled down, and then he gripped the other man’s cheeks firmly between his fingers. He brought Daryl’s face up until they were eye to eye. “Now you listen to me, baby brother, and you listen good. I get word of that pansy fuck comin’ round here again, or I see it m’self, I’ll kill you both. And don’t think I won’t be checkin’ up on ya from time to time, because I sure as hell will be. Ain’t no brother of mine’s gonna be a faggot, you hear me?”

Daryl tried to murmur some form of acknowledgment, tried to at least nod his head, but all he managed was a weak groaning that hurt his acid-corroded throat. Thankfully, Merle took that as answer enough, and released his brother. He turned back to the window and began to climb out again.

Once Merle was out of the house he turned back to the window, leaning down enough that he could see Daryl through the opening. “Don’t forget what I said.” And then he took off into the night.

Daryl, with all the strength he could muster, limped his way into the kitchen. He picked up the phone, wincing at the pain lifting his arm caused, and dialed Rick’s number.

“Rick, I can’t see ya anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1000 points to whoever can spot the references to Stephen King's IT (which I'm currently reading for the 3rd time and have fluttering around my mind at nearly all hours of the day).


	9. Who's Going Home With You Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I must apologize for the lateness of this update. I started my new job, and I'm scheduled for late evening shifts (like 6:30pm-11:15pm or something along those lines), and I'm on my feet all day, so I come home tired and sore and I end up not wanting to write or do anything except sit in my chair and read or check my tumblr.   
> But I'm not scheduled again until Saturday, so I've got a little while to rest up and do some writing and such, so hopefully I can get more than just this update done before then. 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy the chapter.

Rick paced around his living room, occasionally stopping to close his eyes and scrub his hand over his face. He was tired, but too wired to sleep; he was confused, but his thoughts were too jumbled to try to figure things out.  He looked down at the cell phone still clutched like a talisman between his white-knuckled fingers, as if it could tell him what the right thing to do was.

Daryl had called him roughly an hour ago, his breathing labored, his voice husky, and abruptly broke things off. Rick didn’t have the faintest clue as to why Daryl had done this, because as soon as he had said the fateful words he hung up the phone, leaving Rick no time to respond, or ask ‘why’.

 _Rick, I can’t see ya anymore._ That small, yet powerful, sentence replayed in Rick’s mind for what felt like the thousandth time, each syllable reverberating around his head in high definition, and yet he still couldn’t quite make sense of them, at least not completely.

Not even an hour before Daryl’s call the two of them had been making out on that tattered old couch in Daryl’s tiny excuse for a front room, and Daryl had told Rick that, though he wasn’t ready at that exact moment, when he was Rick would be the one he made love to. Rick had promised to wait, just as Daryl had promised that the detective would be his first, and now that promise, both of their promises, had been shattered to pieces. How could you wait for something that, now, would never come? How could you promise something so intimate to someone in one breath and then cut them out of your life in another?

Something must have happened to Daryl to make him change his mind, and so abruptly, too. But what event had occurred to cause such drastic changes; that was the true question.

Maybe Carol had walked back into the redneck’s life, had lain in his bed and given up her body to him once again, and he had remembered why he’d been with her in the first place. That seemed plausible enough, especially with how Daryl’s voice had sounded over the phone.

 _I love you, Daryl. I’m sorry I left. Please, let me make it up to you._ Rick could hear the vixen’s voice in his ear clear as a bell, as if she were whispering it to him from less than an inch away.

Of course, that’s what had to have happened. Well, Rick wasn’t about to take that kind of blow without some form of retaliation. Fuck what Daryl said, Rick was going back to that ramshackle house right that second to settle the score. No way in hell was he going to just let someone he cared about, someone he had thought cared about him, end things with a few whispered words over a shitty phone line, and then hang up as if his feelings didn’t matter.

Rick stalked into the bedroom, shoving his feet into his shoes without bothering to make sure they were even put on properly, grabbed his keys from off the front counter, and practically ripped the door handle off in his haste to get into his car.

He fired up the engine and shot like a bat out of hell down the road, back to Daryl, letting his fury fuel him.

~ ~ ~

Daryl lay in bed on his back, one hand tightened around his torso. He was pretty sure Merle had broken some ribs, but he was still debating on whether or not to go to the hospital. After all, if he went to the hospital there would be questions as to how he came to be in this condition, and he couldn’t exactly tell the doctors that his withdrawl-addled brother had broken into his house and beat the shit out of him for dating a male detective on the sly. That would bring even more questions, and with the way he was feeling right now talking was the last thing he wanted to do.

He’d choked down about seven tablets of ibuprofen, followed those up with two Vicodin from the leftover prescription stash that the cops didn’t seem to notice, and chased it all down with about four and a half shots of whiskey. The pain had subsided in his face and groin, and his stomach felt a little sore, like he’d done too many crunches and then thrown up, but it wasn’t helping his ribs much. Every time he breathed or moved even a millimeter his side would protest, sending shockwaves of pain throughout his entire body.

So he lay still, kept his eyes closed, and let his head swim. He left like he was trying to swim through quicksand, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. The fuzziness inside his head took his mind off of the pain in his body, and he was more than grateful for that.

He was cl0se to sleep, almost ready to fall into dreamland, when a knock sounded from somewhere far away. Someone at the front door, judging by how far the sound seemed to have to travel to reach him. He would ignore them, they would leave, and he could settle into a nice slumber.

The knock came again, this time louder, more insistent, and he could swear it had traveled right into his brain and rattled against his skull. Maybe he was just a little loopy from the medication and alcohol, or maybe he was now in hyper alert mode from the urgency of the knocking.

With a groan and a curse he pulled himself up and out of bed, nearly dropping back down to his knees at the pain such a movement caused; getting to the door would be a hell of a struggle.

Somehow Daryl managed to shuffle his way to the door, though neither the pain nor the knocking ceased. He had half a mind to shout at whoever was on the either side of the wood to shut the fuck up because he was almost there, but he couldn’t seem to make his throat push the words out.

Finally he managed to reach out, grip the doorknob tightly, and slowly pull the door open. Through his slight haze he could see that it was Rick on the other side. Part of Daryl wanted to smile, because oh how he’d hated to make that call to the man he loved, but another part wanted to scream at the detective to run, run far away and never come back lest Merle come back and really kill them both. He supposed he didn’t mind dying so much if he had to, but he couldn’t bear to see any harm befall Rick.

Rick had been fuming as he pounded on the door, preparing to shout obscenities at Daryl as soon as he opened the door, but all the fight rushed out of him in a whoosh when he took in the redneck’s battered form.

Daryl had one black eye, bruises and cuts spattered over his forehead and cheeks, a swollen upper lip, and his nose appeared to be broken. He was hunched forward slightly, his arm gripping tight to his side, as if he were trying to hold himself together, and Rick knew that the man had broken some ribs.

“Daryl, what the fuck happened?” Rick asked, his voice a mere whisper as his eyes continued to rove over the quivering man in the doorway.

Daryl didn’t answer, just brought his teeth down on his bottom lip, and Rick could see that one of his canine teeth was chipped. Daryl averted his gaze from the detective’s, too ashamed and afraid to look at him full-on.

The fear was a shock to Daryl, considering he’d stopped being afraid of anything about the time his father started doling out beatings. But that fear was present now, turning his veins into ice, because the longer Rick stood there in the doorway, that strangely adorable dumbfounded look lingering on his face, he was in danger of Merle seeing and coming back to put him in the ground.

“Told ya I can’t see ya no more, Rick. Go away.” Daryl spoke as firmly as he could muster, preparing to close the door in Rick’s face.

But Rick wasn’t about to be brushed off that easily; he needed an explanation, and Daryl needed a doctor. He gently pushed his way into the house, removing Daryl’s fingers from the door to close it himself, and then cupped Daryl’s face in his hands.

Rick tentatively smoothed his thumbs over the bruises and cuts on Daryl’s cheeks, moving lower down to trace the outline of Daryl’s swollen lip. Cautiously, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Daryl’s, his touch feather light; Rick could think of no other way to show the other man his love at that moment, could think of nothing better to convey that he would help him and stand beside him forever.

Rick pulled back after a brief moment, staring at Daryl’s closed eyes until the lids lifted and he was graced with that beautiful blue he loved so much. “Please, Daryl, tell me what happened, and let me help you.”

Daryl hesitated for a moment, his eyes showing his uncertainty, but finally he sighed and nodded. Rick helped him get to the couch, giving his body a minimal reprieve from the agony it was suffering. His head still felt fuzzy, his thoughts still somewhat unclear, but Daryl fought through the clouds inside his mind to tell Rick his tale.

Daryl recounted how Merle had come through the window, quoted as many of the words Merle had said to him as he could remember, and blanketed his injuries with the vague term of “and then he beat the shit outta me.” Rick listened intently, never interrupting, the dull rage boiling his blood once again. He would bring Merle Dixon to justice for what he’d done, no matter what.

After Daryl finished the two men sat in silence for a while, Rick trying to think of a solution to the problem presented, Daryl waiting for Rick to say something.

A few minutes passed, and then the light of a new idea flashed brightly in Rick’s eyes. “Merle doesn’t know where I live.”

“Yeah, so?” Daryl questioned, raising one eyebrow in confusion.

“So I think that you should come stay with me for a little while.”


	10. Remedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how late this update is coming in. Work and life have been stressful and tiring lately. And for a while I've been feeling like everything I try to start writing comes out like shit, so I just haven't gotten much done.   
> But at least I got this finished and posted now.   
> Enjoy.

“Rick, dammit, I told ya m’fine.” Daryl huffed, rolling his eyes for about the hundredth time as Rick turned down the dirt driveway that led to his friend’s house.

Daryl had already forgotten the name that Rick had said to him about an hour prior; he was still pretty fuzzy from all the medication and alcohol he’d mixed together to try and numb his pain. All he knew now was that they were on a very beautiful plot of land, even though little of it could be seen clearly at night, and they were almost at what appeared to be the main house of the property. He knew that Rick’s friend was a doctor of some kind who would apparently “fix him right up”, but he didn’t quite trust Rick’s judgment of any doctor.

“You are not fine, Daryl.” Rick stifled a chuckle at the expression on Daryl’s face. “Broken ribs are pretty serious, and I think something more than your nose might be broken in that gorgeous face of yours, and, Daryl, when it comes to your face I don’t ever want it to look any different.”

Daryl made a snorting nose, which sounded slightly wheezy coming through his off-kilter nostrils. “I ain’t that good-lookin’, Rick. Don’t know what you see in my damn face, anyhow.”

The car was stopped now, the two men idling in the front seats. Daryl stared out the windshield, admiring how much brighter the stars looked out here, even in comparison to his woodsy shack, while Rick admired Daryl.

Rick loved everything about Daryl’s face, right down to the tiny mole next to the corner of his lips and the way his right eye had that slight bag under it. They were all part of the complex makeup of who Daryl was, and they deserved to be treasured like the precious gems they were. Daryl should have gotten that message loud and clear, considering how often Rick touched his face when they were together, and especially when they were making out. But he could dwell on those things later; right now Daryl needed medical attention.

“Time to go inside, Daryl. I’ll come around and help you out.” Rick spoke over his shoulder as he opened the car door and stepped out.

Daryl reached out and opened his own door, though with the effort it took to try and push it, it only opened about a crack. “Don’t need yer damn help.” Daryl grumbled to himself, using most of his strength just to try and shove the door away from the car.

Rick stood beside the car patiently, watching Daryl struggle. If he tried to help now Daryl would snap at him and do everything on his own, even if it killed him; best to let Daryl’s stubbornness wear itself out and offer assistance when the man was too exhausted and fed up with his plight to argue.

Daryl finally managed to get the door most of the way open, a triumphant smirk gracing his features as he glanced up at Rick through his eyelashes. _Told ya so,_ that smirk seemed to say. Rick folded his arms over his chest as Daryl swung his legs out of the vehicle, holding in his laughter at the way Daryl gripped the roof of the car with one hand while the other stayed tightly cinched around his middle, his face flushing a gentle pink as he attempted to pull himself into a standing position.

Daryl had gotten about two inches off the seat before his strength faltered and he fell right back onto his ass. A look of panic swam into his semi-clouded eyes, and you could practically hear his thoughts screaming _now I’ll have to ask Rick for help._

Before Daryl even had to utter the words Rick was there, bending down with his arms outstretched to assist his love. Rick wrapped one arm under Daryl’s right armpit, bracing his back and shoulders to keep him from falling again, as well as acting as a pulley so that Daryl wouldn’t have to use all of his strength to try and lift himself again. The other hand gripped Daryl’s left hand firmly, which would allow Daryl to push himself up by using Rick, and would probably make the redneck think that he’d needed only minimal assistance.

It took them a moment, but soon enough they were standing outside of the car, Daryl’s face contorted in a mixture of minimal pain and major embarrassment and Rick’s lips curved up in a secret smile that he partially hoped Daryl didn’t see.

~ ~ ~

“What on God’s green earth happened to you, son?” Hershel Greene asked as he took in Daryl’s ragged form, half-leaning away from Rick.

Rick had called Hershel from his cell phone shortly after Daryl had told him what had happened. Hershel had been sleeping at the time, but agreed to stay up and help the injured man. Roughly two hours later Rick and Daryl stood on Hershel’s front stoop, looking much the worse for wear.

“Long story.” Daryl mumbled, averting his eyes from the older man’s. He felt uncomfortable when anyone stared at him, but especially so when he was so wounded and in need of the other person’s help. He hated the feeling of vulnerability that came with those stares, the knowledge that he was exposed to their questions and their judgments and was powerless to stop either from coming.

“We can tell you all about it later, Hershel. Right now Daryl really needs your help.” Rick threw his friend a glare laced with urgency and concern.

Hershel regarded the pair a moment longer before nodding and stepping back from the entryway, holding the door as wide open as it would go to give them access. Rick, one arm firmly bracing Daryl’s underarms while the other kept the redneck’s arm in place across his shoulders, practically lifted Daryl over the threshold.

“Which way?” Rick asked.

Hershel pointed to a room just off the left of the main foyer. “In there.”

Rick hauled Daryl into the room and set him gently on the Queen-sized bed, feeling an internal pang of guilt at the way Daryl winced. Hershel followed in behind them, rolling up the sleeves of his night-shirt.

~ ~ ~

Daryl slept soundly under the covers of the guest bed where he’d been treated, his soft snores filling the room. Rick watched him, almost unable to tear his eyes away from the angular face he adored so much, now smooth and worry-free; he longed to see Daryl looking that way more often, without all the hurt and sorrow etched into his features over a lifetime of unspoken hardship.

“Rick, standing there won’t make him heal any faster. Let him rest.” Hershel gave the detective a slight nudge in the direction of the front sitting-room.

Rick reluctantly left Daryl’s side, resolving to return as soon as he possibly could.

Hershel lowered himself into an armchair, Rick plunking onto a sofa beside him, the two looking a bit like worn out rag dolls from some past child’s toy collection.

“What happened to that man, Rick?” Hershel asked, leveling the other man with a hard stare.

Rick sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not my tale to tell, Hershel. Daryl wouldn’t like me divulging the details of her personal life.” Which was true, for the most part, though Rick just really didn’t want to talk about the earlier events of the night.

Hershel nodded, contemplating his next question before voicing it. “Alright, then tell me _why_ it happened. Tell me why you had to call me past midnight to treat your injured friend off the grid when there were plenty of open, operating hospitals much closer to your neck of the woods.”

Rick closed his eyes, trying to figure out the best way to answer such a loaded question. He didn’t know where to even begin with that explanation. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve been up late enough, Rick. A little longer won’t matter much. I deserve an explanation.”

Rick sighed again, deeper this time, his distaste for this conversation making itself quite well known. “Hospitals would ask too many questions, file paperwork and reports, make this whole incident a little too official, you know?”

“Did you do this to that young man, Rick?” Hershel asked, his voice soft and pitched low.

Rick’s eyes shot open, a glare of pure hatred finding Hershel in its rays. “Of course not. How could you even ask that of me? You know I’m not that kind of man.”

“I was just making sure. The way you’re wording your answer is more than a little suspicious, you know.” Hershel leaned back, folding his hands over his stomach.

“It was Daryl’s brother, alright? Asshole went nuts, beat his little brother half to hell.”

Hershel nodded, watching as Rick plucked at a loose thread in the hem of his shirt.

Rick was debating with himself whether or not to tell Hershel the whole truth, the whole reason why Merle had gone and kicked Daryl’s ass into the ground. Hershel was a religious man, and Rick wasn’t too sure how he would take the information.

Finally he decided he was too tired to try and beat around the bush any longer. “Daryl and I are… together. That’s why his brother hurt him, because he couldn’t handle his kin being… with another man. I had to haul Daryl down to the station a while ago to ask him some questions about a case. He was innocent, but it would still look bad, for both of us, if word were to get out that a detective was dating a prospective perpetrator. That’s why we couldn’t just go to the hospital. Besides, hospitals make Daryl uncomfortable. He wouldn’t go anywhere but here, because you’re off the grid and everything.” Rick shook his head as he spoke, letting it loll back on the couch’s cushions.

Hershel didn’t speak for a long while, processing all the information Rick had given him. It was minimal, but full of important details that he knew Rick was hoping he would miss.

“Suppose that’s reasonable enough, given the circumstances.” Hershel said.

Rick looked over at him. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“What, do you expect me to preach at you, Rick? You’re a grown man, and you make your own decisions. You choose who you’re going to be with, and no sermon from me is going to change your mind. I just have one question for you.” Hershel met Rick’s gaze now, his lined face filled with nothing but kindness.

“What is it?”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Then protect him, even from his family. Make sure this doesn’t happen to him again, because if his brother decides to come around and hurt him another time, he might not survive it. One of those broken ribs was an inch away from puncturing his lung; I could see that even without an x-ray.

“If you love him, keep him safe, Rick. I know all too well the pain of losing someone you care about, someone you love in that special way.” Hershel reached out and patted Rick’s knee, giving it a firm squeeze to both comfort and drive home his point.

Rick looked at that hand, wrinkled, worn with work and age, and was filled with such gratefulness for Hershel’s friendship that he thought he might cry.

“I’d move heaven and earth to prevent this from happening again. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him, forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to write some long scene about Hershel patching Daryl up and shit, so I just cut that whole thing out. All you need to know is that Daryl is fine and will heal up well.


	11. Sometimes You Gotta Risk It All, Let's Risk It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I recently bought the new(est) Escape The Fate CD (which is fantastic, in case anyone was wondering), and while listening to it on repeat for the hundredth time I realized that the chorus of the song Risk It All really seemed to fit this story. So what else could I do but incorporate it into the fic?  
> The title comes from this song, and in this chapter Rick quotes the lyrics to Daryl, namely these lyrics: "I'm the one that took a chance. I'm the one that took a leap of faith. When no one else believed in me, I stood my ground and I found my place... Sometimes you just gotta stand on the edge. Sometimes you gotta risk it all. Let's risk it all."
> 
> So that's that. 
> 
> I'm also really glad that I found the will to start/complete this chapter over the course of these past two days, because work has been extremely tiring lately and I'm more than a little bit sore. But the urge to write was overwhelming, so here we are.   
> Alright, that's enough of my babbling for one chapter.  
> Enjoy the update, kiddies.

Hershel allowed Rick and Daryl to spend the remainder of the night, and part of the next morning, in the guest room of his home; mostly because Daryl was out cold until somewhere around seven in the morning.

Rick spent his night reclining in an armchair that he had pulled up to the bed, staring down at Daryl’s still form. He thought again of how he longed to see Daryl’s face smooth, unperturbed by worry and sorrow, more often in real life. He vaguely wondered what Daryl was dreaming about, a small smile curving his lips at the thought that it could possibly even be him. But Rick was being silly, and he laughed at himself lightly as he settled deeper into the cushy chair. He’d been on morphine before, and he remembered that while on it he didn’t dream, but rather just blacked out for several hours. So of course Daryl wasn’t dreaming about Rick, or about anything else in particular, he was just deep in slumber’s dark shadows, resting his weary body for the morning.

But Rick was wrong this time around. Daryl was dreaming, even under the warm caress of the morphine, and what’s more he was actually dreaming about Rick. It wasn’t a particularly detailed dream; there was no dialogue to it, and Daryl couldn’t make out quite where they were (though he figured it was somewhere in the woods, because his vision was interspersed with shades of green and because he felt most at ease in the forest), but he could clearly see Rick’s face, and that was enough to make him happier than he’d been in weeks.

In this dream Rick was smiling at him, his blue eyes getting those corner crinkles Daryl adored so much, and running a thumb over his cheek. He could feel a slight flush heating his face, but no internal embarrassment followed it. He enjoyed Rick’s gentle caress, longed to push his face into the man’s palm so he could feel that touch over a wider expanse, and then Rick was doing just that, cupping his jaw, cradling it even.

Perhaps Daryl dreamed this way because back in the real world Rick was making those same motions. With a touch so feather light Daryl had no hope of rousing from it, Rick trailed his thumb over the man’s slightly bruised cheekbone. He moved his hand down lower, his palm encasing Daryl’s jawline, the stubble there tickling his skin.

Rick was both checking Daryl’s injuries and trying to offer comfort, if only to the sleeping man’s subconscious. But maybe he was trying to comfort himself, as well, or trying to come to terms with the fact that the perfect creature resting under his hand was truly his, in a sense. Rick still couldn’t quite believe that Daryl loved him back, or had willingly agreed to move in with him; hell, he was still amazed that Daryl hadn’t simply punched him in the face and walked away the second he even hinted that he might want to take the redneck on a date.

Rick leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips to Daryl’s, kissing his sleeping beauty. “Thank you so much, Daryl. For everything you have given me.”

And with those whispered words Rick leaned back and let sleep overtake him.

~ ~ ~

The morning found the two lovers back in Rick’s car, making the two hour drive back to Daryl’s home so that he could pack his things. Rather so that he could tell Rick what to pack, since Rick had no intention of actually letting Daryl do anything so strenuous with his injuries.

Hershel had given them each a strong cup of coffee and bid them goodbye with a kind pat to each shoulder and a mumbled “gotta go feed the horses.”

They didn’t talk much on the way back, but their silence wasn’t uncomfortable. The sound of the car whooshing down the road was quite soothing, and Daryl seemed to enjoy staring out the window at the nature passing them by, so Rick let him be.

Finally they arrived at Daryl’s house, and Rick rushed around to the passenger side to help the other man out of the car. Again, Daryl tried to get out on his own, and again he had to give in to Rick’s assistance once his body reminded him of its current limitations. Rick half-carried Daryl into the house, heading straight for the back bedrooms. Once in Daryl’s room Rick guided the redneck to the bed and sat him down.

“Alright, Daryl, tell me what you need.” Rick spoke as he looked around the small room, his eyes roving over its entirety, searching for some kind of suitcase or bag in which to pack his love’s things.

Because he was distracted, Rick didn’t notice Daryl’s silence for a few moments longer than he normally would have. But sitting there on the bed Daryl was a wreck, both physically and emotionally. His teeth had clamped down onto his bottom lip, his fingers were fidgeting restlessly with the sheet covering his mattress, and his eyes were fixed firmly onto the floor.

“Daryl?” Rick called his name softly, concern blanketing his tone.

Daryl’s eyes shifted up to the detective’s, panic roiling their blue waters.

“Daryl, what’s wrong?” Rick asked, his own panic taking over, and he knelt in front of Daryl, clasping the man’s hands tightly within his own.

Daryl couldn’t meet Rick’s eyes, and instead focused on their hands, twined together like they were born that way. He couldn’t bring himself to give voice to the thoughts plaguing him, either, afraid that Rick would be upset by them.

_What if I tell ‘im what I’m thinkin’, an’ he agrees with me? Is that what I want, fer him t’come t’my realizations, too? Or do I want him to argue with me, force me inta seein’ things from his point of view? Maybe I need him to convince me that this is the right decision, ‘cause if he left it all up t’me I’d end up sittin’ on this goddamned bed m’whole life an’ never actually makin’ the damn choice, ‘cause both paths are too damn risky for me without him helpin’ me out._

“Daryl, you gotta talk to me. Are you in pain? Hershel gave me some extra medication, if you need to take some now.” Rick reached up and traced over the injuries he could clearly see on Daryl’s body, like his bruised cheek and jawline, and the ridge of his formerly broken nose.

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, I ain’t hurtin’, ‘least not physically.”

“Then what is it?”

Daryl took a deep breath before speaking. “Well, it’s just that… what if this ain’t the right choice? Maybe I shouldn’t move in with ya. Maybe I should just stay here.”

Rick snorted, taking Daryl by surprise. “Stay here and what, Daryl? Wait for Merle to come back around and beat you up again, maybe even kill you?”

“I just mean that maybe… maybe we shouldn’t see each other no more. Then Merle won’t have no damn reason t’come ‘round and hurt either of us.”

Rick was silent for several agonizing seconds, and then, “So you want to break up with me. You don’t want to see me anymore, and you’re going to use Merle as an excuse.”

Daryl’s eyes widened and his head snapped up, sending a flash of pain through all of his injuries. “That’s not what I mean at all, Rick. I don’t ever wanna be without you, not fer the rest of my life. But I’d do that if it meant you’d be safe. I’d suffer so y’could live in peace.”

“Daryl, what are you even talking about?” Rick’s eyes had hardened into something akin to ice, and Daryl, for the first time since meeting the man, was afraid of him. But he was caught in the snare of Rick’s gaze, and was unable to look away.

“Merle… he said if we stayed t’gether he’d kill you. Kill us both, really, but you first, an’ knowin’ my brother he’d make me watch. I couldn’t bear that Rick, seein’ ya hurt ‘cause of me. Y’can do better’n me, anyway; y’deserve better’n me.” Daryl mumbled out the last part, his voice taking on a hushed tone.

Rick was shocked. He knew Daryl had self-esteem issues, but he’d never thought the man would be this willingly blind. Rick tried to show Daryl he loved him every chance he got. He loved to kiss those lips, so soft though they resided in such a hardened person. He loved to run his fingertips over that satin smooth skin, over the places calloused by hard work and the spots still as sensitive as a newborn’s skin. At this point there was no such thing as “deserve”, there was simply _need._ Rick couldn’t be without Daryl any more than he could be without water. Sure, dehydration took about three days to fully kick in and kill someone, but Rick figured that as much time completely without Daryl would have the same effect on him in the end.

“Daryl, I don’t have the words to tell you just how much you mean to me. That would take about the whole damn dictionary’s worth of words, and at least every sonnet ever written to someone else’s lover. I don’t deserve better than you, because we are equal, and that makes us both perfect, especially when we’re together. You can’t have yin without yang, right? Well, that’s us, the equal parts of light and dark that mesh together to make one whole picture.

“I’m the one that took a chance; I’m the one that took a leap of faith. When no one else believed in me I stood my ground and found my place. And that place is here beside you, Daryl. Sometimes you just gotta stand on the edge. Sometimes you gotta risk it all. So let’s risk it all.” Rick smiled up at Daryl, his eyes clear of that anger and hurt once more.

Hearing Rick’s words made Daryl certain about what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to be with Rick, now and forever. So he would move in with Rick. He would take that leap of faith, just as Rick had taken a leap of faith in asking him out that day that now seemed so far away.

Daryl couldn’t think of any words poetic enough to reply to Rick, so he would let his actions speak for him. He leaned forward, closing the minimal gap between them, and pressed his lips to Rick’s. He let his mouth speak in a different way to show the man before him just how much he loved him and trusted him.

Daryl took a chance, and found his place. Daryl was willing to risk it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this time I would like to give a shoutout to Ghost. We're not even halfway done with this fic, I don't think, and already her continued support has helped to push me forward on this story, and some of the ones before it.   
> My best friend isn't reading this fic at the moment (lack of opportunity I suppose), so Ghosty has really been the one to step up to the plate and keep me going. She comments on every chapter and gives me compliments I don't deserve, because she is a beautiful person inside and out, and I can't help but adore her. 
> 
> So thank you, Ghosty, for just being you, and for helping me so much in ways so simple and yet still so meaningful.   
> I just happened to be re-reading the comments on A State of Peace and Misery (I was replying to some comments someone who had just recently read/finished it had left a day or so ago) and it hit me all over again how much you genuinely love my writing, and how you've stuck with me through everything. You were there from my first Dick fic to now, and your comments have honestly made my writing better. You help me strive for the perfection I know my work can achieve.   
> And yeah, I'm getting a little sappy and sentimental and shit, but it's 2:00am and I'm hopped up on Escape the Fate and pain meds, and I'm pretty exhausted from work, so excuse me if I'm getting a little tacky and overbearing. 
> 
> Just yeah, thanks for being here.


	12. The Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter is a song by Garth Brooks that I hate with the fiery passion of a thousand exploding stars. This song has very painful strings attached to it for me (such as, when my mom left my dad would sometimes play this song and cry, not thinking I could hear him from the next room, but I could. but perhaps this is a bit too personal, so I don't know pretend you never read it), so I hate pretty much anything to do with it. But, it did fit the chapter and worked with the way I wanted things to go, so I pushed aside my hatred and muscled on through it.  
> I don't suggest listening to this song ever in your lifetime if you can help it. 
> 
> Again, I must shout out to Ghost, who requested something with Rick and Daryl slow dancing. Well, love, you got your wish. It was pleasant to write as a filler chapter, since I do so love to write fluff between these two. 
> 
> This chapter also came out longer than I expected, so that's good for me. 
> 
> Alright, enough of my talking. Enjoy the chapter, kiddies.

Rick’s apartment was wider than Daryl had first imagined, though he’d never been inside an apartment building, so he never really had an accurate picture to base his thoughts on in the first place. It was a two bathroom-two bedroom, one master and one not, and the non-master one was currently being used as a sort of “study”, a place where Rick could relax with some music or go over case files or just peruse the internet if he so chose. The kitchen had just enough space for two people to cook together side by side, or squeeze around each other back to back, and at the back of the kitchen was the area which held the washer and dryer. The kitchen and laundry branched off of the short foyer to the left, the bedrooms down a short hall to the right. In the middle was the wide expanse of a living room. Rick didn’t have a lot of furniture, just a small sofa, for entertaining guests or napping during the day, a reclining armchair, a glass coffee table, and a wall-mounted TV. Underneath the TV was a shelving unit housing several DVDs and CDs.

The entire apartment was floored with a warm, toffee colored carpeting, which was somehow softer than anything Daryl had ever owned in his life. He had a fleeting thought that if Rick didn’t want his dirty ass in bed that he’d be perfectly content to just sleep on the carpeting.

“So… what do you think?” Rick asked after he had given Daryl the short tour and helped set the man’s things into the closet.

“It’s probably as big as m’whole damn house.” Daryl said, his voice almost awed, as he once more looked around the living room. Rick had lugged him over to the couch so they could comfortably sit and talk together.

Rick chuckled softly. “That’s not what I mean. I mean do you like it?”

“’Course I do. It’s a nice place, that’s for sure. Comfortable, open, plenty a’ space fer two.” Daryl let his eyes fall back to Rick’s as he said the last part, the blue waters shining with a brightness Rick had only ever seen after their first make-out session.

Rick smiled, taking Daryl’s hand in his own and gently stroking the back of it with his thumb. Neither of them spoke, both content in the stillness. They sat that way for several minutes, basking in each other’s company, until Rick suddenly rose from the couch and broke their contact. Daryl had to fight the urge not to pout, though he did shoot Rick a quizzical look, which Rick laughed off in the offhand sort of way he had that said _“don’t worry, everything will be fine.”_

Rick stooped in front of the shelving unit and slid one of the glass panels aside, rifling through his CD collection until he found the one he wanted. Daryl tried to peek around Rick’s shoulder at the cover art to see if he could recognize the name of whoever was on that album, but his view was blocked completely.

Rick turned on the TV, switched it to the DVD input, and popped the CD into the DVD player. He picked up the remote, hitting a few buttons at a time until he came to the song he wanted, and then he turned up the volume. Soft, slow, somehow sad music flooded the room, surrounding the two men with its melody.

Rick turned back to Daryl, sidling up to his side once more, and held out his hand, palm up, a gesture of invitation. “Care to dance, Mr. Dixon?”

Daryl’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he scoffed. “I ain’t got no dancing skills.”

“Then don’t be so stubborn and let me lead; you’ll do just fine that way.” The mischievous smirk curving Rick’s lips was clearly a challenge.

For some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, Daryl placed his hand in Rick’s and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. In one fluid motion Rick had pulled the redneck just centimeters from his body and wrapped a steady hand around his waist, his other hand still clasping tightly to Daryl’s own. Daryl, having no other place to put his hand, was forced to rest it on Rick’s shoulder.

“Tryin’a tell me I’m the woman in this relationship?” Daryl grumbled.

Rick laughed again and ducked his head, placing a reassuring kiss on Daryl’s lips. “I’d never dream of it, Daryl. Unless, of course, you want to be the woman in the relationship.” Rick wiggled his eyebrows obscenely, earning a hearty laugh from his partner.

The two lapsed into silence after that, and Rick restarted the song so that they could share a proper dance. The melodious tune once more filled the room, and Rick couldn’t help but pull Daryl flush against his body; there was no space between them now, and their foreheads were pressed together, forcing them to lock gazes.

_Looking back on the memory of_   
_The dance we shared beneath the stars above_   
_For a moment all the world was right_   
_How could I have known you'd ever say goodbye_

Daryl raised an eyebrow at Rick, the lyrics finally hitting him. “This ain’t no love song. This is about breaking up. Why’d you put this on, Rick?”

Rick kissed Daryl once more in that same reassuring manner, calming whatever feathers had been ruffled by his music choice. “It’s a song about dancing. But not just dancing, one fateful dance that two lovers once shared. To me, this is a love song, because he loved the person enough to have fond memories of the dance they shared, rather than be bitter about them leaving. Listen.”

Rick closed his eyes as he and Daryl swayed back and forth, and then he began to sing softly.

_“Holding you I held everything_   
_For a moment wasn't I the king_   
_But if I'd only known how the king would fall_   
_Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all_   
_And now I’m glad I didn’t know_   
_The way it all would end, the way it all would go_   
_Our lives are better left to chance. I could have missed the pain,_   
_But I'd have had to miss the dance.”_

Daryl closed his own eyes as he listened to Rick’s voice infuse with the other man’s, thinking it was perhaps the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in his life. With Rick showing his perspective about the song in this way Daryl was hard pressed to believe it was a love song, too.

“You see, Daryl? He’s glad he never missed out on that dance with his partner. Just as I’ll always be glad that I never missed this dance with you. No matter what happens between us, I’ll always be happy to have this moment, and for you I’d never change a damn thing, whether I know how it’ll go or not.”

And then they were spinning in slow, lazy circles around the living room, mouths entwined with one another, clutching tightly to each other. Rick brought the hand residing on Daryl waist up to the man’s shoulders, pulling him even closer somehow, deepening their kiss. Before Daryl had even registered what had happened his arm had cinched around Rick’s neck, holding him in place, and then he was being dipped toward the ground. For one fleeting second Daryl was afraid that Rick would drop him accidentally, but Rick’s grip on him never faltered, and neither did his kiss.

And Daryl knew deep in his heart that no matter what happened he would never regret this dance, either.


	13. Recover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone, I've finally added smut into one of my long fics, and it felt really awkward yet really good all at the same time, so I hope you all like it and that it doesn't sound stupid as hell.   
> I also have some important things to say, but I'm saving those for the end notes. So please be as kind as to read the notes I post at the end of the chapter, because I have questions and ideas and I need opinions on them. 
> 
> Thankfully I got this written before watching the replay of The Walking Dead's new episode (I miss the normal showing because of work) because I'm pretty much a wreck right now. 
> 
> Also, the lyrics Rick whispers to Daryl during the smutty-woo is from the song Recover by Device. I've quoted that song before, and I decided to do it again because wow lyrics. I just thought they fit really well, so there you go. You should all listen to the song because it's great. 
> 
> Ok, enjoy.

Over the next few days Rick waited on Daryl hand and foot, tending to his every need. He’d requested a little extra time off from work, telling the chief that he needed some personal time away because one of his cases was getting to him. The chief hadn’t put up much argument, considering he’d seen detectives of sound mind have mental breakdowns over seemingly simple cases (and sometimes much more gruesome ones), and had told Rick to come back in a week.

During this time Daryl grumbled a lot, and a soft flush of pink permanently colored his cheeks. He often insisted that he didn’t need Rick’s help to get from one place to another, and certainly didn’t need assistance in the shower, but Rick was never more than an inch away from him, regardless of where he went.

Daryl’s bruises were turning that odd yellow color that indicated healing, and every day, several times a day, Rick would run a fingertip over each individual mark and then gently kiss it. This usually caused Daryl’s blush to deepen, but Rick seemed not to notice.

The two men usually spent their days and nights parked in front of the TV, watching some show on cable that happened to spark their attention, or maybe putting on a movie they could both agree on. Often times Rick would use the DVD player for his CD collection, playing something within the ranges of country, rock/classic rock, and metal. Daryl had to admit that he was a little taken aback by Rick’s music choices at first, but he didn’t object to any of them; after all they were the genres that he liked to listen to, when the radio stations would come in on his old stereo or he’d wander into Billy’s for a drink.

They got to know each other more when they had music in the background. The instrumentals seemed to open them up a bit more than usual, and sometimes a lyric would spark an interesting conversation or two.

Crazy Bitch by Buckcherry made Daryl give Rick a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

_“So do y’like it rough like that, with the scratches all down yer back?”_

_It was Rick’s turn to blush then, but he did answer with a curt nod, though his eyes didn’t meet Daryl’s._

_“I’ll have to ‘member that,” was all Daryl said in turn._

Remember Everything by Five Finger Death Punch made Daryl get this distant, sorrowful look in his eyes that concerned Rick to no end.

_“Daryl, are you alright?” Rick asked, shifting so that his face was in front of Daryl’s, trying to read the expression behind the man’s eyes._

_Daryl’s eyes were locked on Rick’s, but they weren’t quite there. Daryl was looking somewhere farther away than just a few inches in front of him; he was staring into the twisted pathway of his memories. After a few seconds Daryl’s eyes refocused on Rick’s, the light in them returning once more._

_“Yeah, I can relate to the song’s all.”_

That turned into a discussion about Daryl’s past, and how it equated to his current self-worth.

_“How can you relate?” Rick asked, tentatively placing a hand on the redneck’s shoulder._

_Daryl shrugged, trying to brush Rick’s hand away without actually doing as much. “Long story.”_

_“We’ve got all the time in the world. Tell me.”_

_Daryl looked away again, his gaze travelling to the front door, and Rick wondered if he was thinking about fleeing so he wouldn’t have to talk._

_Finally, Daryl turned back to Rick. “My dad ain’t the nicest guy in the world, alright? An’ my mom, she’s dead. Drank herself into a stupor and decided to light up a damn cigarette in bed. Burned herself to a crisp along with our first house. An’ Merle… well, you know how Merle is.”_

_Daryl didn’t say anything more, he couldn’t find the will or the words to do so, but Rick understood well enough._

_“None of those things are your fault, you know. Some people, they just don’t have the right kind of hardware in their brains, aren’t wired properly an’ all. They take things out on those around them, even if those people are innocent, even if those people are helpless, even if those people are children. And when a child goes through that sort of thing, it fucks them up, Daryl. They don’t see themselves in the right light. And I’m betting that’s how you are, am I right?”_

_Daryl nodded, sniffling slightly and willing the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes not to fall._

_“There’s nothing wrong with you, Daryl. Not a damn thing. And I know it’s hard for you to believe that, but you have to try. Promise me you’ll do that, okay? Promise me you won’t put yourself down or hate yourself anymore.”_

_Daryl looked up at Rick, his eyes wide and covered with a watery sheen. “I promise, Rick.”_

_They sealed that promise with a long, slow kiss._

And now it was Saturday night, somewhere around midnight, and the two were lying side-by-side in bed. Daryl was mostly straight, on account of his still somewhat aching ribs, and Rick was trying to force himself not to curve around the other man until their bodies were molded together. Neither one slept, but they didn’t speak either, worried that they might keep the other from slipping over the edge of slumber.

Eventually, though, Daryl had to break the silence. “Ya sleepin’ yet?” He whispered, his voice travelling into the shadows above him.

“Not yet. Guess you’re not either.” Rick chuckled softly, and his arm snaked around Daryl’s chest cautiously, trying to pull him closer without injuring him further.

“Got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Daryl’s voice trailed off after just the one word, and he swallowed roughly, trying to breathe around the lump in his throat. “Like what our first time might be like.”

Rick’s eyes widened, and he lifted up just enough to rest his chin on Daryl’s shoulder. He studied the man’s profile in the dim strips of moonlight filtering through the blinds, his eyes tracing the curve of healing nose and luscious lips for what felt like both the first time and the thousandth.

“Really?” Rick breathed the word on a gust of held-in air, his warm breath fanning over Daryl’s cheek in a not-unpleasant sort of way.

Daryl swallowed again, his lips parting as he took in another breath not quite deep enough to reach his lungs. “Yeah.”

Rick pressed his lips to the hollow of Daryl’s cheek, his lips moving against the skin there as he spoke. “Do you want to find out?”

The way Daryl turned his head, his lips capturing Rick’s with passionate hunger, was answer enough. Rick moved his hands to the bed and pushed himself up so that he could lean over Daryl; he didn’t want the man to strain himself and set his recovery back another week.

Their mouths moving as one, Rick shifted his body over Daryl’s so that he was now straddling the redneck, the stiffness tenting both of their boxers rubbing together as they moved.

Daryl’s breath hitched in his throat as Rick slowly rotated his hips forward, grinding their groins together, which gave Rick an opportunity to move his lips to that swanlike neck of Daryl’s. His mouth latched onto the skin just above the jugular vein, sucking and nibbling like just the taste of Daryl’s flesh was mother’s milk.

Daryl’s eyes slipped closed and he groaned quietly, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. Suddenly he felt the tug of his boxers being pulled down his hips, the fabric brushing against his erection on its way down, and then it was gone, Rick throwing the underwear over the side of the bed without a care. Daryl had to admit that the feeling of his bare skin against the fabric of Rick’s boxers was a lot more pleasant that when his crotch had been covered.

“Let me take hold of your mind, where every decadent thought is my favorite kind. Let me console you tonight, and recover. Let me take hold of your mind, and all the love’s that we’ve lost will not plague us this time. When I behold you tonight we’ll recover.” Rick mumbled against Daryl’s skin, his voice taking on the humming quality of singing without actually doing so.

Daryl didn’t know the song Rick was whispering into his neck, but damn if it didn’t arouse him even more than he already was. He reached up, his fingers tangling into Rick’s hair as if to hold him in place and pull him back up to his lips all at the same time. His other hand moved to Rick’s waist, clumsily lowering the detective’s underwear so that he could feel him, every part of him, skin-t0-skin, with no barriers between.

Rick helped him remove the pesky pair of undergarments, and then they were touching, they were really touching, in the most intimate ways possible. Daryl had never felt things from this perspective before, but he most certainly wasn’t adverse to it. Rather, he seemed to crave it, and he eagerly thrust his hips against Rick’s, trying to feel the sensation of their togetherness everywhere at once.

Daryl vaguely registered Rick reaching for something on the bedside table, or rather inside of its drawer, and then Rick had pulled away, his lips leaving Daryl’s neck with a soft popping noise. Daryl’s eyes flickered open, and he could make out Rick holding a small bottle of something, and pouring something over his fingers.

Rick seemed to sense Daryl’s confusion, because he explained, “It’s baby oil. I kind of… practiced before hand. By myself, of course. But I found things are easier if there’s some kind of lubrication; less painful for the one on the receiving end.”

Daryl could hear the sheepishness in the man’s voice, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He had forgotten that both of them were virgins, in this sense, because Rick had seemed so skilled and full of expertise a moment ago.

Daryl stopped laughing the second Rick’s hips lifted and his back arched, creating quite a gorgeous silhouette, and slicked himself up to his likeness. Daryl bit down hard on his lip, holding back a moan; just the sight of Rick this way was likely to make him come, and he hadn’t even been touched yet.

“You ready?” Rick asked, his breathing picking up speed to match his excitement and nervousness.

Daryl could only moan out something resembling “mm-hmm”, but that was enough for Rick.

“You’re still healing, so just let me do all the work. You can pay me back for this when you’re better.” Rick grinned mischievously.

Daryl was just about to reply when Rick grabbed his hips, steading himself, and lowered himself down toward Daryl’s groin. Daryl had enough sense to reach down and hold himself in place, guiding his cock into Rick so that Rick wouldn’t have to struggle so much with that part.

And then there was bliss mixed with warmth. It was tight, tighter than anything Daryl had experienced, but that just made it better. There was wetness, too, from the lubricant, but that was also different. Oh, but Daryl didn’t really care how different things were, because they felt too damn good to complain.

Rick was whimpering softly, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and pain, and Daryl cupped his jaw, stroking his cheek with the pad of his thumb. This seemed to help Rick relax, and he kissed Daryl’s thumb in silent gratitude.

They rocked together, rising and falling like the ocean tide, two lovers becoming one. The silence was broken only by the sound of their moans, at least until Rick leaned down and pressed his lips firmly to Daryl’s. Their lips parted at almost the same time, each inviting the other inside, and their tongues danced frantically.

Remembering what Rick had said about liking it rough earlier that week, Daryl reached up and dug his nails into Rick’s back, raking them through the flesh nearly hard enough to bring blood. It drove Rick crazy, and he groaned into Daryl’s mouth.

Soon, much too soon, Daryl was crying out his orgasm, his back arching beautifully as his head fell back, his wispy hair covering the pillow in a dark puddle, and Rick was stroking himself into his own climax.

That night was the first that they truly felt connected; they had recovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the words of Homer Simpson in the Treehouse of Horror XX, "While turning gay the other day a thought occurred to me."  
> Ok that really has nothing to do with what I have to say, except for the thought part.   
> Anyway. I work at Target, ok, and today they shoved me into the infants section. Now anyone who knows me knows that I really don't like kids and I don't ever want to have them, so at first I thought that working this section tonight would be my own personal hell. Turns out it was actually really relaxing and calm, and surprisingly enough the kids that did end up in my section were well-behaved and quiet, but I digress.   
> Why does this matter, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.   
> While working this section I was able to spend a lot of thinking time on my writing, particularly this fic, and right around the time I started making the baby bath lotion and baby oil and baby shampoo and shit look nice I had this wonderful vision of Rick and Daryl as proud adoptive parents, coming into Target with their little bundle of joy to buy diapers and baby food and all that good stuff. Perhaps even having a little tiff about which scent of the baby shampoo they should buy this time around. 
> 
> SO MY IDEA THAT I PROPOSE TO ALL OF YOU IS THIS:  
> I give Rick and Daryl a kid. Not right away of course, since there's still a lot of relationship building to be done before that happens, but sometime down the road. Nothing like mpreg either, since that shit bothers me to no fucking end. They'll adopt, perhaps a baby who's only 1-2 years of age so they have plenty of time to nurture it and watch it grow and everything. Maybe I could even work in some kind of surrogate mother idea instead, that way they'd have a newborn. 
> 
> SO HERE'S WHAT I WANT YOU ALL TO DO:  
> Think this idea over. Roll it around a bit. If you think it's a good idea and something you'd like to see from me, then give me a comment that says like "yes" or "go for it" or "do it ya pansy" or something like that, along with what gender you think the baby should be. You can even throw in a name you like if you want (though it won't be chosen because I have names in mind for a child of either gender).   
> If you don't think this is a good idea then just be like "nah fuck that baby shit" or something.   
> I really don't care what you say for either scenario as long as I can tell it's a clear yes or no opinion. 
> 
> OK THANK YOU EVERYONE I SHALL NOW EAGERLY AWAIT YOUR RESPONSES


	14. Raining On Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was reading over this before posting it and I realized that Daryl probably sounds a little out of character in this chapter. However, I liked it this way, so I'm not about to go and change it.   
> Just remember that this is an AU and things may be changed to better fit this story. I'm trying to stay true to the way the character's are on the show, but that's kind of difficult to do when there are really no aspects of the show put into this. 
> 
> For some reason I wanted to write more smutty-woo. There might be more chapters like this in the future, too, but I think that I'll cool things down for a little while with some fluff, and maybe a bit of angst and plot development type stuff. I don't want to slow this story down too much when we were off to a pretty good start, and there's so much more to tell still. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

The day after the boy’s first tryst was a difficult one for Daryl, but damned if he’d complain for even a second about any pain he happened to be feeling. His breath hitched more often than normal, and he had a bit of trouble moving or walking, but a wide grin of satisfaction was permanently plastered onto his face. Seeing the happiness in Daryl’s expression for the first time in a long time kept Rick from saying anything about the man’s injuries having been slightly worsened, too.

Daryl seemed more comfortable, too. He sat closer to Rick on the couch, their legs rubbing against one another, their shoulders pressed together, and twined his fingers around the detective’s. It was a bit odd to see Daryl in such a cuddling mood, but Rick didn’t mind the attention the redneck was lavishing on him in the least.

In fact, every time Rick leaned in for a kiss, whether he meant to place it on Daryl’s lips or not, Daryl willingly returned the affection, capturing Rick’s lips and kissing him so sweetly his head spun in dizzying, yet not unpleasant, circles. They kissed more often on that day than they had in the entire span of their relationship before; that’s actually what they spent most of that day doing: kissing. Nothing but the other’s lush mouth held much attention for them that Sunday.

The sounds of their lips moving in tandem was broken only by the pitter-pattering of rain falling against the roof and windows. At first it had only been lightly sprinkling, but by the afternoon had picked up to nothing short of a storm, and if you were to look out of one of the windows in Rick’s apartment you would see nothing but a sheet of water.

The rain didn’t dampen their moods, though. It was actually quite the opposite. Daryl loved the rain, and it had a calming effect on him. He reclined lazily on the couch cushions, leaning into Rick’s side, and allowed Rick to wrap an arm around his shoulders after a while. For about an hour he even fell asleep on the poor man, his head lolling first onto Rick’s chest and then falling unceremoniously into his lap. After the previous night’s events Rick figured the man deserved a nap, and didn’t have the heart to try and move him. His leg fell asleep and he couldn’t feel anything for most of the hour, but he didn’t dare shift his position, lest he wake Daryl. Besides, having the redneck’s head in his lap gave Rick the opportunity to play with that wispy hair he loved so much. He ran his fingers through it endlessly, gently twirling the strands around his fingertips, marveling at how silky smooth it was.

When Daryl woke up, finally, all bleary-eyed and smiling sleepily, Rick decided they deserved some pizza. He called up his favorite pizza place, a little shop by the name of Uncle Ernie’s, and ordered them an extra-large pizza with every meat topping the joint carried.

Daryl hadn’t had much pizza in his life, and certainly none as good as Uncle Ernie’s, which was Rick’s favorite, and Rick took great pleasure in watching Daryl enjoy the food. There was something alluring in the way the redneck would pick a few excess toppings off of a slice and pop them in his mouth, holding them up high and dropping them in. There was something even more alluring in the way he would lick his fingers after every slice, his lips suctioning around the skin as his tongue licked the grease off, soft popping sounds resounding after he pulled each finger out in turn. Rick stopped eating just to watch Daryl lick his fingers, and wondered what it would feel like if Daryl were doing that to him in another, more sensitive place.

“Hidin’ a gun in yer pocket, detective?” Daryl smirked, his eyes darting to Rick’s tenting boxers and then coming back to rest on the man’s eyes.

Rick blushed deeply and turned away, pretending he was interested in a piece of cheese hanging from his half-eaten pizza slice. “There’s just something about you sucking your fingers, Daryl. Maybe you shouldn’t do that around me anymore.”

Daryl chuckled and finished off his slice. “Nah, I think I’ll continue.”

Daryl then brought his middle finger to his lips, his tongue slowly protruding from his mouth and trailing over his finger, from the junction where it connected to his palm right up to his fingertip. His teeth followed his tongue, gently grazing over his skin in the same path his tongue had created.

“Dammit, Daryl.” Rick groaned, setting his pizza back inside the box. The look on his face was more than pained. He wanted Daryl so badly, but he didn’t want to worsen his condition more than it already had been due to their sexcapade the night before.

“What’s ‘a matter, Rick?” Daryl asked innocently, gazing at him with those wide blue eyes.

Rick’s breathing hitched in his throat and he huffed, making a move to get up. Daryl put a hand on his chest to hold him back and keep him on the couch, inching closer as he did so.

Uncertainty flashed in Daryl’s eyes, his inexperience and nervousness at having even gone this far shining through clear as day. He wanted to be intimate with Rick, wanted to return the favor for what the detective had done for him the night before, but he didn’t really know how. He’d never been with a man before Rick, so he didn’t quite understand how this whole thing worked, and it was apparent in the way he hesitated after having pushed Rick back.

“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, Daryl. I can take care of myself tonight.” Rick smiled kindly at Daryl, trying to put him more at ease. No one could say the detective didn’t have honor; he would never make Daryl do something he wasn’t one-hundred-percent comfortable with.

Daryl bit his lip, his gaze shifting between Rick’s eyes and his body. “I do want to. I just don’t know what the hell I’m doin’.”

Rick had to laugh at the lost expression on Daryl’s face. “You think I had any idea what I was doing last night? I just let instinct take over, and did what felt right.”

Daryl nodded, taking the man’s words to heart. He’d always followed his instincts before, and they’d never failed him in the past. His intuition was as sharp and strong as it’d ever been, and there was no reason to doubt it now.

Daryl stepped out of his own head, in a sense, and let his body lead. He barely registered what he was doing as his hand raised to Rick’s face, his thumb slowly sliding across the man’s bottom lip. Rick’s eyes were shining brightly, practically begging him to go further, and the detective flicked his tongue out, tracing the pad of Daryl’s thumb. It tasted partly like pizza, but there was the unmistakable flavor of _Daryl_ underneath that, and Rick longed for more than just that small sample. But this was Daryl’s time to experiment, not Rick’s, and he would file that idea away for another rainy day.

Daryl relaxed slightly at Rick’s gesture, and his lips replaced his thumb, moving over the detective’s with a touch that was feather light and full of building hunger. Rick’s mouth responded immediately, conforming to the curve of Daryl’s lips as if they’d been born locked together that way.

Daryl pulled back and tentatively kissed his way down Rick’s jawline to his throat, his tongue tracing the man’s jugular and swirling over the pulse point. Rick moaned quietly, and Daryl could feel the vibration on his tongue. Hearing that sound, feeling that tingling hum coming off of his love’s skin, seemed to break open the floodgates to Daryl’s less reserved side.

He sunk his teeth into Rick’s throat, careful not to bite hard enough to hurt, but ravaging the flesh there all the same. Rick moaned again, the thrumming of his vocal chords hitting Daryl’s teeth just exactly right to drive him even more wild.

Daryl’s breath was coming out shaky and rickety, but he didn’t dare stop now. He pulled back from Rick’s neck, noticing with some satisfaction that he’d made quite an attractive red mark on the man’s flesh, and grabbed Rick’s hand. He lifted Rick’s hand to his lips and slowly licked the man’s middle finger, his teeth following his tongue just as he had done to himself earlier. And then Rick’s finger was in Daryl’s mouth completely, and Daryl was sucking on it fervently.

Rick held back a groan of pure pleasure, the sound catching in his throat along with his breath. God, but Daryl looked so fucking sexy sucking on him like that, even if what he was sucking on was a finger and not something more poignant. The stiffness tenting Rick’s boxers was aching now, his balls tightening in arousal, and he knew he’d come right there in his shorts if Daryl didn’t stop his antics in the next five seconds.

But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, because if he could get some release right now he’d have more time to really enjoy the way Daryl’s mouth curved around his flesh, the way the soft, moist surface of his tongue felt brushing against the sensitive skin of his fingertips, and the way his cheeks hollowed slightly as he softly sucked on that finger.

“Daryl,” Rick breathed, the word coming out in a half-whisper, half-groan. “I’m close. Please…” The sentence trailed off, Rick unable to even comprehend what it was he wanted out of this. Did he want Daryl to continue and just stain his boxers, or did he want Daryl to stop and maybe turn his attention elsewhere?

Rick didn’t understand his request, but Daryl seemed to. He let Rick’s finger slip from his mouth and fall unceremoniously to his lap, where Rick instantly latched onto his groin and squeezed. Daryl was transfixed by the detective’s movements, wanting to watch Rick pleasure himself so that he’d have some idea of how to make the man happy in the future. But his instincts told him that wasn’t the right thing to do, that he needed to continue with something else and quickly.

Daryl gruffly pushed Rick’s hand away from his crotch, earning him a disappointed groan from the man. Rick’s head flopped against the back of the couch, gasps wracking his throat, and his fist clenched tightly as he tried hard to think of something else, anything else, to make this last longer; clearly Daryl had something in mind, and it wouldn’t do any good for Rick to spoil that by coming so soon.

Daryl was more than a little ecstatic to be having this effect on Rick, and had he not been so eager to continue he might have enjoyed watching the man writhe with need under his hands. He would keep that in mind for the future.

Daryl gripped the waistband of Rick’s boxers between his thumbs and forefingers, pulling the garment as far down as he possibly could from the positions they were in, satisfied when the fabric went to the top of Rick’s knees. He hesitated again, this time at how beautiful the sight of Rick exposed to him was, and then reached out and gently wrapped his fingers around Rick’s shaft.

 _Man, how the fuck do I do this kinda shit?_ Daryl thought to himself, kneading Rick cautiously with his thumb while he tried to figure everything out. Rick’s hips bucked upward, trying to feel more of Daryl’s touch, and he groaned once more, this time low and guttural, sounding like a caged animal.

_Maybe if I just do this to him the way I like it, that’ll be good, at least fer now. We can probly figure out all the details later, when we both got more patience, anyway._

Daryl squeezed Rick’s cock a little harder, stroking in time with Rick’s thrusting, his thumb still massaging as it moved up and down. He smoothed his thumb over the tip, slicking his palm with the pre-cum Rick had already leaked. That worked to make Rick even more sensitive, and his back arched against the couch cushions.

Daryl suddenly had an idea. Deciding to run with the whim, he leaned down and wrapped his lips around the head of Rick’s cock, sucking it the way he had previously sucked the man’s fingers.

“Oh God, Daryl.” Rick cried out, his hand latching onto Daryl’s shoulder, the nails digging in furiously. He wanted so badly to tangle his finger’s in the redneck’s hair, give him a push in the right direction, but he didn’t want to upset Daryl; the man’s shoulder would have to do.

Daryl, figuring things out as he went along, let his mouth slip farther downward, his hand falling to the base of Rick’s shaft. This new experience was actually quite pleasant for Daryl, and he found that the delicious taste of Rick that he loved so much was stronger here than on his lips, and that made him want it more. His tongue lapped at the skin while his lips rose and fell in a rough sucking motion, his hand moving from Rick’s groin to his hip instead; Daryl gripped Rick’s hip tightly, pinning him to the sofa.

Rick, his head still thrown back, his spine still arched, struggled not to buck into Daryl’s warm mouth. For a man who was a virgin at this he was doing a much better job than Lori’d ever done, and damn if Rick wasn’t right at the cusp of release once again. How he managed to hold out that long was a mystery, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it in for another thirty seconds.

“Daryl, I… I’m…” Rick couldn’t get the words out, but he hoped that the redneck would infer his meaning simply from the look on his face.

He looked down toward Daryl, watching the luscious lips work on him, and when Daryl looked back up at him, their eyes locking, blue on blue, and Rick saw that spark of mischievousness and enjoyment burning bright behind Daryl’s wide pupils he was coming, hard. He uttered out a loud cry of ecstacy, his fingers tangling into the tendrils of hair at the nape of Daryl’s neck, not to keep him in place, but just to grip and hold some part of him more closely.

As soon as Rick calmed Daryl pulled back, spitting into a stray napkin; he wasn’t quite ready to try swallowing. He turned back to Rick, about to ask how it was, when Rick was right there in front of him, his hand gripping the back of the redneck’s head tightly as his lips crashed down on Daryl’s. Rick’s tongue begged entry and Daryl parted his lips willingly; their tongues danced, Rick tasting himself lingering on Daryl’s tongue.

Rick’s hands moved to cup Daryl’s jaw, stroking the man’s cheeks lovingly, and he broke their kiss, choosing to press their foreheads together instead. Rick’s warm breath puffed over Daryl’s face, his breathing still shallow and not all there.

“So was it alright?” Daryl asked, the old familiar self-consciousness setting in once again.

Rick stared into Daryl’s eyes, his lips curving into a wide grin. “No, it was terrible.” Rick rolled his eyes as he laughed, pressing another kiss to Daryl’s pouty lips. “Actually it was amazing.”

Daryl smiled, a light blush coloring his cheeks at how pleased he was by Rick’s praise.

~ ~ ~

That night the two men fell asleep curled into each other’s warmth, the sound of rain falling against the rooftop effectively ending their Sunday night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I just feel these things need to be mentioned.   
> I'm not really into the whole finger sucking thing usually, because it almost always seems really pointless to me (and kind of boring, to be honest), but if you've ever seen the way Norman Reedus sucks on those fucking fingers of his then you'll see why I could justify writing it into this chapter.   
> And though I don't really like writing smut, I do have a soft-spot for blowjobs. Which is weird, because blowjobs are still smut. But I'm an odd person, clearly. 
> 
> Anyway, I just hope you liked the smut this time around. I actually liked the way I wrote it this time around, though I still feel awkward as shit posting it and all. 
> 
> Keep the comments coming in on whether or not I should someday throw a kid into this mix, as well. Genders, too, if you please.


	15. Bang The Doldrums

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title was supposed to represent Daryl being in the apartment alone all day thinking of something to do, but I was too lazy to write that all out, so now it just doesn't fit at all. But I don't fucking care.  
> I also don't fucking care about how lazy I'm being with the way I ended this chapter. I could have made it longer. I could have made it better. But I cut it short because I'm tired as fuck from work and Halloween and life, and in a whole other world of pain and soreness, so you'll just have to deal with this chapter not being it's best. 
> 
> I know I sound angry, but I'm really not. I'm sorry. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway.

Daryl was brought into Monday morning by Rick’s lips pressing softly against his cheek. Daryl blinked into awareness, his eyes searching for Rick’s face. Rick chuckled lightly at the way Daryl was trying to find him, and leaned forward, his lips brushing the man’s cheek once more.

“I’m right here, love.” Rick whispered into the hollow of Daryl’s cheek.

Daryl calmed, a small smile curving his lips. “Don’t go gettin’ all mushy on me, detective.”

Daryl gently pushed Rick away so that he could sit up. Rick caught him around the shoulders and helped pull him into the proper position, earning him several half-hearted slaps to the arm.

“What time is it?” Daryl asked with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Right about seven in the morning. I have to go back into work today, remember? Gotta be in there by eight or the chief will have my ass, and frankly I’d rather keep that part of my body reserved for you alone.” Rick smirked, reaching out and pushing some tendrils of hair off of Daryl’s forehead.

Daryl yawned again and stretched his arms out, groaning with satisfaction as his joints popped. “Yeah, I ain’t much fer sharin’, anyhow.”

Rick laughed and shook his head. “I just wanted to let you know I was leaving. Go back to bed; I’ll be home around five or six, hopefully.”

“Alright.” Daryl’s mouth pulled down into what appeared to be a pout, his tone sounding rather disappointed.

Rick didn’t know what Daryl would have to be disappointed about in this situation, but he didn’t have time to ask all the questions forming on his tongue at that moment. “Kiss goodbye?” He asked, leaning toward Daryl and touching their foreheads together.

Daryl didn’t hesitate to mold his mouth to the detective’s, and Rick had to force himself to pull away. He pecked the tip of Daryl’s nose once, wishing he could stop to enjoy the way the man crinkled and wiggled his nose up afterwards, looking as cute as a bunny, then grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door.

Daryl fell back onto the pillows and wrapped his arms around himself, already missing Rick’s warmth beside him. He’d been spoiled by the week they’d spent together, but it was time to grow up and realize that they couldn’t stay like that forever. Rick had obligations to tend to, money to make, and people to help. And Daryl… well, Daryl didn’t have much of anything anymore, except for Rick.

He wasn’t bothered to have Rick as his most precious thing in the world, but he was bothered that he didn’t have a source of income with which to help out. He’d been fired from his job at Navy’s Mechanics, the shoddy auto-body shop about half a mile from his former home, a week before Merle had beaten him senseless. Just one more thing to thank Rick for: if Rick hadn’t scooped him up and brought him home like the stray he was, he’d have been through most of his last paycheck by now, and would have to roam the woods and hunt for food until he could find a new job.

Wouldn’t have been the first time, but it’s not like he enjoyed having to do that. He hated how poor and worthless it made him feel. He’d had to hunt for survival, in a way, but he couldn’t picture it like that. To him it seemed more like murder, because he didn’t need to eat those animals for a life or death situation, not really. Or at least he would never truly believe that he’d needed to do so, whether it was true or not.

Daryl shook his head, clearing those thoughts from his mind. He had so much to thank Rick for, so much debt to the man that he could never fully repay, and still the man only wanted to give him more, wanted to give him the whole world and then some, and it made Daryl feel guilty.

He was still healing, so he couldn’t go out and work a nine-to-five job like he’d done before, certainly couldn’t do anything with heavy lifting or a lot of moving, at least not for another month or two. But he could at least make the house look nice for Rick, right? Maybe cook him dinner every night, as a way to show his gratitude. He was technically a guest in this place anyway,  and if didn’t do something to pull his weight he feared that Rick would grow upset with him, call him lazy, maybe even kick him out, and there was no way he could handle that.

So he could keep the apartment clean, make sure everything was spotless and shiny and put in its proper place, and he’d make sure Rick came home to a hot, well-cooked meal when he got home from work. Rick did so much, not only for Daryl, but for so many other people in their city, that he deserved at least that much.

~ ~ ~

Rick let out a gust of breath when he finally got home, his key connecting with the lock, his suit jacket slung over his shoulders in a most unprofessional manner. He’d had to run damn near all over creation tracking Merle with a few other officers because someone had reported a sighting of the man that day. They searched mostly in the woods, guns drawn and at the ready, trying to figure out the ways of the hunter as they went along (though none of their tracking skills were much match for Merle’s, and he quickly escaped their grasps).

He’d been debating with himself all day, even during the time in the forest when he should have been focusing, on whether or not to tell Daryl about the whole ordeal. It could upset the man he loved to hear that his brother was close to being arrested, regardless of whether or not said brother had beaten him damn near six feet into the ground. Daryl was too loyal for his own good, especially when it came to his blood relations, and Rick figured that telling him would be more trouble than it was worth. But at the same time Rick believed that Daryl had a right to know; after all, Rick would want to know if he were in Daryl’s position. The whole thing was a vicious Catch 22, because neither outcome was likely to end well.

But now Rick was home, and he still didn’t have an answer for himself, and all he could do was pray that Daryl wouldn’t ask about his day.

The smell of cooking steak hit Rick square in the face when he opened the door, wiping clean all of his worries, for the present moment. The scent of potatoes baking in the oven wafted just under the smell of the steak, and it made Rick’s mouth water even more. He followed the smells floating away from the kitchen, knowing that they led to something wonderful, and came face to face with a very happy looking Daryl.

Daryl seemed not to have heard or noticed Rick’s entry yet, perhaps because he was so focused on what he was doing, but the smile on his face was wide and genuine and it made Rick’s heart dance to see those lips curved up that way. His eyes were staring intently at the steak he was flipping with a pair of tongs, but even from where Rick was standing he could see that those blue waters were shining like the ocean at noon.

Rick thought he could probably stand there forever, dumbstruck and in twenty different kinds of fascination over the way Daryl’s face was lit up, but then Daryl finally caught sight of him. The smile widened more than Rick would have thought possible for Daryl’s facial muscles, those sparkling eyes locking onto his, and Rick nearly melted into a puddle right there on the floor.

“Welcome home, detective.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to let everyone know that I have started another long chapter fic. It's a Boondock Saints/OC kind of thing (I promise it's not shit), because I clearly don't have enough to write and do and think about already.   
> I'm telling you this for two reasons:  
> 1\. To get you to read it (of course)  
> 2\. To make sure everyone understands that the updates for this story may come later than normal if I start really focusing and working on that fic. Currently this one takes precedence, but as I start to develop the other story more that could change. I will not abandon this fic, though, so you don't have to worry about that. But just please be patient in case I don't happen to update for a week or so at a time. 
> 
> And just in case you would like to read it (which I hope you do), it's called "Two To Tango, Four To Fear"


	16. Speak

Rick stepped into the kitchen, his arms outstretched and reaching for Daryl. Daryl rolled his eyes, but obliged the detective by stepping into his embrace. Rick wrapped his arms around the redneck’s broad shoulders, squeezing him tightly, and placed loving kisses from temple to jaw and back again.

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me.” Rick mumbled into Daryl’s hair, inhaling deeply to breathe in the other man’s sweet scent.

“’Course I did. Hadda repay ya for takin’ are of me somehow.” Daryl murmured, poking at the steak with the tongs still gripped in his hand.

Rick pulled back, trying to catch Daryl’s eyes, or at least the expression on his face. “You don’t have to repay me for anything, Daryl. I love you, so of course I’m going to take care of you when you’re hurt.”

Daryl’s cheeks flushed a soft pink and he kept his gaze pointedly fixed on the food, hoping the detective would just let the subject drop. When Rick stayed silent, still staring a hole into Daryl’s temple, Daryl knew he needed to say something. “I love you, too, Rick.”

Rick huffed, but didn’t say anything else. He just placed a kiss on the other man’s cheek and released him. Daryl finally looked over as Rick pulled away, afraid that he’d upset the other man, but Rick grinned at him as he stooped to pick up his briefcase. “I’m going to get washed up and ready for dinner.”

Daryl nodded, his lips curving into his patented side-long smile as he watched Rick walk away.

~ ~ ~

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” Rick was mumbling around a large bite of steak, his eyes closing in appreciation of the amazing meal before him.

Daryl blushed and dipped his head, his long bangs falling over his eyes. “My mom taught me sometimes, when she wasn’t drunk or high or laid up after one’a dad’s beatings. Wasn’t often, but it was enough.”

Daryl hadn’t said much, but he’d inadvertently opened up to Rick, flinging wide one of the doors to his past without a second thought. Or at least that’s how Rick saw it. In reality Daryl was terrified of what just that sentence would bring about in the way of questions about his childhood or his parents. He was fully expecting Rick to start in on him about something or another, but Rick stayed silent, chewing his food with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Finally, Rick spoke up. “Sounds like she was a quite a cook.”

What Daryl said hadn’t sounded like that at all, except in maybe the very vaguest sense, but Daryl was grateful that Rick hadn’t focused in on anything else.

Rick, meanwhile, was still debating on whether or not to tell Daryl about what had happened earlier in the day concerning Merle. Daryl had a right to know, of course he did, but that kind of information could make him close up again; or worse, it could make him want to move out of Rick’s place and go back to his own, back to where Merle could easily find him and hurt him all over again. Besides, Rick could just hide under the guise of the case being confidential, and Daryl would probably never think to ask questions anyway.

But Daryl, that beautiful man sitting across from him, had been nothing but loyal and trusting of Rick, and Rick owed it to him to tell him everything happening with his brother. Screw the confidentialities of the case. Screw the personal emotions they now both had interfering with clear thought on the matter. Daryl had opened up a piece of himself to Rick, and Rick had to repay him that.

That was really the only thing worth repaying, anyhow. Daryl needed to see that Rick tending to him was something the detective was more than willing to do, something that needed no payment or returned favor, but he also needed to see that talking, about himself or about anything in general, was something to be rewarded.

Sure, it probably wouldn’t seem like a reward at first, but in time Daryl would come to understand that Rick meant well, that Rick wanted to earn his trust, and that was what would make Daryl open himself further. And Rick wanted his redneck spread wide, in every sense of the phrase. He wanted to see the inner machinations of Daryl’s mind, wanted to know what made him happy or sad or angry, wanted to know which subjects to stray from unless absolutely necessary and which to talk more about. He wanted all of Daryl, even the tragic backstory haunting him, and he wanted Daryl to feel the same way for him.

So Rick made up his mind. He would tell Daryl about the case, every last detail of it.

“Daryl, I need to talk to you about something.” Rick said, laying his fork aside.

Daryl’s eyes widened under the cover of hair, a wave of panic washing over him. Rick was probably going to tell him that even cooking and cleaning wasn’t enough to make up for his inabilities. He was going to kick him out. He was going to break up with him. A million horrible scenarios ran through Daryl’s mind on a sort of film-reel, and they all worked to tie his stomach in knots and make him a lot more than nauseous.

“What?” Daryl managed to croak out, his eyes flickering up to, briefly, catch Rick’s gaze.

Rick sighed, breaking their eye contact first, and that was what really frightened Daryl. Rick never looked away first, he just stared at you until you felt uncomfortable enough to talk to him; it was one of the reasons he was a great detective, and a great lover.

“This might be troubling, but I feel you have a right to know about it. We almost caught Merle today, me and some uniformed men. We tracked him into the woods, spent hours combing the trees and bushes with a fine-toothed comb, but he managed to elude us. He could still be in the woods, or he could be somewhere else entirely. But what you need to know is…” Rick let his sentence trail off, unsure of how to continue.

“What is it?” Daryl asked, reaching across the table to gently run his fingertips over the back of Rick’s hand. He hoped his touch would be able to rouse Rick from this odd mood he’d dropped into.

Rick looked up at Daryl’s touch, meeting his troubled eyes, and found the will to continue. “I think we’re close to catching him, Daryl. It could take another month or two, or it could only take a few days. But soon enough he’s going to be in custody or… dead.”

Daryl let his hand drop back to the table, trying to come to terms with what Rick had just said. Merle was an asshole who had kicked his ass just for loving Rick, had threatened Rick’s very life, but Merle was still his brother. Daryl wanted to take a bat to the back of his head, but he didn’t really want to see him dead, at least he didn’t think he wanted that.

But there was a part of him, hiding deep in the recesses of his mind, that would have loved to see Merle dead. After everything Merle had put him through, well he was almost as bad as their father. And that tiny part of him wanted to take a bat to the back of Merle’s head until Merle wasn’t moving, until Merle was just a lifeless corpse with blood and brain matter splattered everywhere. And that scared Daryl more than anything else in the world, aside from losing Rick.

Rick waited for Daryl to say something, to respond in some way, but he didn’t. The redneck simply got up and walked away. A few seconds later Rick heard the bedroom door close; it wasn’t slammed shut, just closed, and that didn’t sit quite right with Rick.

But there was nothing Rick could do now. If he followed Daryl into the room, tried to corner him and make him talk, that could cause an even bigger problem, and Rick wanted to avoid that at all costs.

So he finished his dinner in lonely silence, cleared the dishes from the table, wrapped Daryl’s food for him and set it in the fridge for later, and plopped down on the couch with the TV remote in his hand. And then he settled in for the long wait.


	17. Torn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really on-point in like everything I'm doing today.   
> Like I wrote a chapter for We've Become Desolate (the Caryl fic I just started) before taking a nap. Then I woke up and ate dinner and wrote this chapter in like 40 minutes. I finished right before I had to leave for work, which felt great. Then at work I finished my scheduled zone on time and helped a friend with her zone and now here I am.   
> I may even write another chapter of this, or an update for Two To Tango, Four To Fear (the BDS fic I also just recently started), since I'm in such a good headspace today. 
> 
> But I've talked enough for one update.   
> Enjoy the chapter.

Daryl stood with his back against the door he had so gingerly shut, his breath coming in short gasps that made the pain in his still-healing ribs flare sickeningly. He wrapped one arm around his torso, his fingers latching onto the sore places and attempting in vain to massage them away, as if they were merely just bad cramps. In the end he gave up and took to trying to breathe normally, in through his nose and out through his mouth, nice and slow.

He should have been prepared for this a long time ago. Merle, his darling older brother, had been in and out of jail since he was fourteen, might have been there a lot more had he not enlisted in the Marines. So his being close to going to prison again was really no big surprise, but that still didn’t explain why Daryl was freaking out about it.

Maybe it just seemed different this time, now that he had a much more personal relationship with the person who would ultimately be responsible for locking Merle up and throwing away the key. Or maybe it was different because he was still a bit upset, to put it mildly, that Merle had nearly killed him for having that personal relationship in the first place.

But Daryl thought maybe it had something to do with the fact that Merle had threatened the only person in the world Daryl had left to care about. And Daryl wasn’t one to take threats lightly, especially not when they came from one of the few people he knew who would actually carry them out.

That still made Daryl’s blood boil, that threat. Daryl could take a beating, could lick his wounds and heal up and move on like nothing in the world had happened, Lord knows he’s done it before, but he couldn’t take someone, regardless of who they were, becoming a danger to a person he cared about. And if he were being honest with himself he cared a lot more for Rick than he did for Merle.

That’s not to say this whole ordeal wasn’t running its course on him, though. Daryl paced the room, muttering obscenities under his breath, cursing his brother and his father and his love for the only truly innocent person in the mix, Rick. He paced until his ribs ached and he couldn’t physically pace any longer, and then he sat on the edge of the bed and fidgeted, his fingers wringing the sheets, his foot bouncing up and down on the floor.

He wanted Merle to be caught. He didn’t want Merle to be put into jail again, this time for who knew how long. He wanted Merle to pay for what he’d done, not only to him, but to Rick as well. He didn’t want Merle to get hurt, because that was still his older brother out there. He was filled with righteous anger and crippling despair, and for the life of him he couldn’t tell which was more powerful.

~ ~ ~

Rick had flipped through the TV channels about seven times, never finding anything to watch because each time he tried to settle on something he would start thinking about Daryl, worrying actually, and he wouldn’t be able to concentrate.

On his eighth time around Daryl finally emerged from their bedroom, shuffling slowly into the room and plopping down beside Rick with no grace whatsoever. The poor man looked like hell,  his eyes a bottomless well of painful emotions, his face drawn into a scowl, one arm thrown over his torso still, unconsciously trying to ease his aching injuries and wounded soul.

Rick didn’t speak, simply turned off the TV and set the remote down on the table, then turned to face Daryl, his eyes roving over the man beside him. Rick noted that Daryl’s knuckles were a pinkish-red, as if he’d hit something repeatedly, and his long, shaggy hair was in a more frazzled state than usual.

Rick longed to reach out to Daryl, to pull him into a gentle embrace and just hold him until he felt well enough to talk or cry or pull away or whatever it was that the younger Dixon did to cope. He wanted to push the locks of hair away from the face he’d fallen in love with, shower the man’s cheeks and forehead with tender kisses to help ease the pain. He wanted to show Daryl that he was there for him, but he didn’t have the faintest clue how to do so.

So they sat there in silence a while, Rick looking at Daryl, Daryl looking pointedly at the wall, silent deliberation raging in his eyes.

Finally, Daryl broke the silence. “M’not mad at ya, Rick, if that’s what y’were thinkin’.”

“I’m glad to know that, Daryl.” That simple sentence lifted a great burden from Rick’s shoulders, and he exhaled the breath he’d been holding for what seemed like hours.

“It’s just this whole damn situation, y’know? Like I don’t wanna see him hurt ‘r nothin’, but at the same time I just wanna take a fuckin’ bat to his head.” Daryl shook his head at himself and leaned back, his head falling over the back of the couch as he closed his eyes.

“I understand what you mean. My old partner at the station, Shane Walsh… well, he was a pretty alright guy, someone I’d considered a best friend for a lotta years. And he was a good man, but he got jealous real easy. Always envied me an’ Lori; we’d argue a lot over who was better for her, who deserved her, but it never mattered ‘cause she never wanted him anyway.

“Well, I wanted to take a bat to his head, too. I thought about pulling my gun on him sometimes, defending my lady’s honor or some shit like that.” Rick smirked, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “I never meant any of it; it was just a way to blow off some steam when he was pissing me off.

“I still remember the day he got shot, right in the back, and I swear I thought he was going to die. And in that moment I realized that even though he frustrated me to no end, even though he pushed my buttons and got me real riled up, he was a good man who’d always have my back, and I needed to have his. He’s in the hospital now, healing up. Should be out soon, then it’s on to a rehabilitation center.

“But my point is, Daryl, you never really know your feelings for someone until they are hurt, or facing death. And you have to ask yourself, if Merle were to get shot in front of you, like Shane got shot in front of me, would you help him, or let him bleed?”

Daryl’s eyes widened slightly, his head snapping up to lock on Rick’s gaze. “I’d help him. Aint’ no question about it.”

Rick nodded, a smile curving his lips up. “That means you’re a good man, Daryl. Even knowing his past and his present, even after everything he did to you, you’d still help him; that makes you a better man than me.

“But what sucks about this whole situation is that you have to remember that Merle’s done some God-awful things. He’s hurt people, he’s hurt you, and he needs to be punished for that. There is justice in this world, Daryl, and though you may not want to see him hurt, wouldn’t you want to at least see him pay for what he’s done?”

Daryl looked away again, dropping his gaze to the arm around his torso. He did want Merle to get a taste of his own medicine, in a sense. And maybe just seeing him rot in jail for another long while would be good enough to satisfy that.

“Yeah, I do. Just make me a promise, Rick?”

“Anything.”

“Make sure he don’t get hurt too bad, or killed.”

“I swear it with my life, Daryl.”


	18. Phase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, kids, there's a bit of a time skip in this chapter. Nothing huge, but enough for me to start getting a real move on this fic. Don't worry, it probably won't be ending for quite a while, but I am speeding up the process a bit to start getting into everything I have planned for the story. It can't all be Dick fluff, you know. 
> 
> So I hope you enjoy, not just the chapter, but everything I still have in store for you.

A month passed with no real activity in the case, or in the men’s lives.

Rick went to work every day, jumping when his desk phone rang, part of him hoping for a tip about Merle, part of him hoping it was nothing but a formality for someone else to handle. Rick wanted to catch Merle more than anything for what he’d done to Daryl, but he also didn’t want to come home and tell Daryl that his brother had been locked up again. Overall it was the longest thirty days of his life, and every night he came home tired and stressed.

Daryl noticed the change in Rick, and tried to be the man that Rick deserved. He made dinner each night, one less thing for the poor man to have to worry about, and every smile Rick graced him with was practically a God-send. As long as Rick could still smile Daryl would know that things weren’t too bad.

Daryl’s ribs were healing up well, and he no longer wheezed when he breathed. He could move with little to no restriction, though if he over-exerted himself he would start to slow and hunch slightly. He began trying to build his strength back up by doing push-ups and crunches in the living room while Rick was at work, since he didn’t have much else to do. He’d put in a heavy metal CD, something with thudding beats and angry lyrics like Five Finger Death Punch, and just work his body until he was sprawled flat on the floor, gasping for breath, his side aching. Sure there was pain, but being able to do a few more reps each day felt good, and kept him going.

Daryl also began looking for a job. He searched the classified ads in the paper each day, circling ads from auto-repair shops or warehouses that needed back room operators. He’d make a list of each place he found that day and then call them one after another, crossing out the listings he was rejected from. After the month he still didn’t have a job, and no one had called him in for any interviews, but no one could say he wasn’t trying.

Due to the high levels of stress on both men, neither of them was in much mood to be very intimate, aside from the kisses they shared throughout the days. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to be physical with each other, they were just usually too tired or upset to try and initiate anything. That didn’t lessen their love for each other, though, nor did it weaken their relationship. They remained faithful, still in the dreamlike state of finally having found someone to love, and slept curled into each other at night, content just to touch the other in some way.

And then one day, right at the end of a month, a call came in on Rick’s home phone. Daryl was in the study, spending his time reading one of the books Rick had filed away on a shelf, something about houses with labyrinths that was confusing him to no end but he was determined to finish regardless, when he heard the ring. He quickly darted to the phone, which was in its cradle in the kitchen, hoping it was one of the prospective companies he’d called to ask about a job.

But when he got to the phone he saw that the caller I.D was for Rick’s cell phone number. Rick had never called home before, and Daryl’s stomach tightened, praying that there was nothing wrong with his love.

“Rick?” Daryl asked, a little breathless, when he finally managed to pick up the phone.

“Daryl, I’m going to be late tonight. We caught Merle; I’m about to go interrogate him right now.”

~ ~ ~

Daryl mumbled something to Rick, something he could no longer remember because it was of such little importance, and then gingerly set the phone back in its cradle.

He’d known this day was coming for a month now, but part of him had never truly expected it to come, had never really thought it’d be on his doorstep staring him in the face. Merle wasn’t the smartest wolf in the pack, but he knew how to lay low and slip past the cops, and Daryl figured he’d have been more careful this time since the stakes were so much higher now.

But Merle had been caught, and Rick would be the one to question him. And that dropped his stomach right down to the soles of his shoes, because the only outcome he could picture of having them in the same room together would be one of them laid out on the floor, bleeding and hurt, maybe dead. But Rick had more self-control than that, and surely they would have Merle handcuffed to that little ring in the table, considering how dangerous he was.

Rick would be safe from Merle’s wrath, and that’s all that really mattered to Daryl now.

That didn’t stop him from pacing frantically, though, making a loop from the kitchen to the bedroom and back again. What would Merle say to Rick’s questions? What would Rick ask him? Would Rick let their personal lives get in the way, let his emotions get in the way, or would he be impassive like any other detective on the force?

Daryl had an odd vision of Rick smirking while Merle raged and strained against the handcuffs, Rick having told Merle something about his and Daryl’s relationship. Daryl shook his head, clearing that thought away. Rick wouldn’t do that, of course not.

Daryl’s pacing didn’t stop for about twenty minutes, his ribs finally protesting his movements enough to make him slow down, take a deep breath, and sit on the couch to relax. He didn’t completely relax, his fingers wringing the cushions on the couch, his feet bouncing up and down in a frenzied tattoo, his thoughts battering against his head in an angry tornado of frustration.

And that’s how he stayed for too many minutes, too many hours, until Rick finally came home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will not just go right to Rick coming home. It's actually going to go to Rick and Merle in the interrogation room. Just wanted everyone to know that in case my parting line was somewhat misleading.


	19. Cry Of Achilles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I haven't updated this fic in like 10 days, and I feel really bad about that. I've just been really busy lately, with work and life and such. Like last Friday (November 15th) was my birthday, then the 16th I had a birthday party, and my friend spent the night, and then we went to the mall on Sunday.   
> I tried writing something yesterday, but I had a horrible headache, so nothing really got done.   
> But I managed to finish this today, and hopefully I'll be able to update a bit more often now. 
> 
> As for the chapter title, I chose this because of how I pictured Merle's reactions to the topics posed in this chapter. It just seemed fitting. But I guess I was also thinking of the character Achilles from Ender's Shadow as being a little bit like Merle, and their similarities helped the title fit, in my head. If you don't know what I'm talking about that's alright.   
> I just hope you enjoy the chapter anyway.

Rick regarded Merle from behind the one-way glass next to the interrogation room, studying his subject, figuring out the best way to make the man crack. There was enough evidence to probably put the man away for a few years, though the witness statements from the drying-out druggies might be dismissed as too flimsy, but Rick was determined to get a confession, regardless; Rick was going to make sure Merle got put away for a very long time, for all the things he’d done to others and for all the pain he’d put Daryl through.

Merle sat in one of the metal chairs, hands cuffed to the small ring on his side of the table, a smirk in his face. No doubt he was making faces at the security camera in the corner across from him, teasing it like he hadn’t a care in the world, like he wasn’t about to be questioned and thrown in jail. Fucker probably thought he’d get off scot-free somehow; either that or he’d found a new stash and was high on something or other.

Either way it was making Rick’s blood boil to have to look at that face, even in profile. Rick’s hands clenched into fists at his side, the urge to walk into the interrogation room and beat Merle to a pulp welling up inside of him and nearly taking over; he restrained the feeling, but just barely.

With a deep breath, Rick steeled his resolve and made his way into the interrogation room.

~ ~ ~

Rick set up a small tripod camera at the side of the table, pulling it back until it captured both him and Merle in its lens. He leaned forward, his face taking up the entirety of the frame. “Detective Rick Grimes, interviewing suspect Merle Dixon.”

Rick walked around the camera, taking the seat across from Merle, trying not to notice the smirk permanently etched onto the man’s features. He even began to flip through the man’s file, going over what he’d already read a hundred times before, just so he wouldn’t have to meet those ice blue eyes that feigned innocence though the guilt lay just beneath the surface.

“Mr. Dixon, do you know why you’re in here today?” Rick asked, never looking up from the papers in the file.

“You an’ yer pigs out there found me in the woods, livin’ on my own, and hauled my ass in here. Is it a crime t’live like Thoreau now, Detective?” Merle grinned, showing his teeth, and a shiver ran down Rick’s spine, a shiver he prayed Merle hadn’t noticed.

Rick sighed, a gust of breath blowing from between his lips and ghosting over the papers in front of him, making them rustle. “No, that’s not a crime, Mr. Dixon, and that’s not why we brought you here. You are here because you were, or still are, in possession of illegal substances. You are here because you were, or still are, illegally selling those substances. You are here because you have assaulted many an innocent citizen, as well as more than a few uniformed officers. You are here because you may have information on other dealers or suppliers that we can use to prevent the sale and distribution of illegal substances. And maybe if you cooperate you’ll get only get ten years in prison.”

Merle’s lips hardened into a thin line, his eyes narrowing into slits as he contemplated Rick. “I didn’t do none of that shit, _Detective_.” He spat the last word, as if it burned his lips to say.

Rick smiled, something hard and jagged, something that didn’t touch his eyes or the rest of his features. “Don’t give me that line, Merle; we both know that’s a crock of shit. We’ve got washed out druggies in our cells giving picture perfect descriptions of you, your fingerprints on the substances we confiscated from that ramshackle hut you call a house, your friends telling us your whereabouts. Your own brother sold you out; the first time I came to the house to ask him questions he blurted out ‘them’s Merle’s shit’ because he didn’t want to get arrested covering for your worthless ass.”

Merle’s jaw tensed, his face taking on an odd shade of pinky-red. “My brother would never fuckin’ say a word ‘gainst me.”

Rick laughed, staring full-on into Merle’s eyes now. “Oh believe me, Merle, he’s said plenty of them.”

Merle’s hands clenched into fists, his wrists straining against the handcuffs as he began to struggle and try to escape them. “You’re a fuckin’ liar! Daryl’d die fer me if he hadda! He ain’t got no reason t’sell me out!”

“He found a reason, Merle. He found someone who didn’t treat him like he was worthless, like he was just a pawn in an underhanded game. He found someone who could help him, someone who wouldn’t hurt him, and for that he dropped your ass faster than a sack of flaming dog shit.” Rick leaned forward across the table, his smile practically serpentine, his eyes glinting steel.

Merle met Rick’s eyes, and suddenly the realization hit him square in the face. Merle thrashed against his restraints, his face growing redder by the second, curse words sputtering from between his clenched teeth as he tried to think of something coherent to say. “You! You’re the damn dirty pig been feedin’ my brother lies, been makin’ him bend over an’ take it like some fuckin’ candy-ass! I’ll kill you, asshole!”

Rick grinned and rose from his seat, walking over to Merle’s side of the table. They were just inches apart now, and Rick lowered even that distance by leaning against the side of the table, bringing him and Merle almost to eye-level.

“Do you want to know the things he says late at night, Merle? What he whispers into the shadows when he’s deep in dreams? He says he hates you, Merle, you and your father. He says he wishes you were dead; sometimes he even says he wants to be the one puts a bullet in your brain.

“Or maybe you want to know what his favorite position is? Let me tell you about the way his back arches enough to practically snap his spine when I manage to find the perfect spot while I fuck him. He likes it rough, did you know that? He likes it when I pull his hair back and bite his neck, when I slap his ass and give him everything I’ve got. He likes not being able to walk for an hour or so afterward.”

Merle stared up at Rick, his face almost incredulous, before he started thrashing again. “No, my brother ain’t gay, ain’t gonna take it from the likes of you! Daryl ain’t gonna take it from no man, y’hear me?! No man!”

Rick closed the gap between them, his lips near Merle’s ear, his warm breath fanning over the man’s skin and making him struggle even harder.

“Let me tell you about the noises he makes, how he mewls when I touch him just right, how he gasps and pants for air when he’s close to coming. Let me tell you how he moans, low in his throat yet still loud enough to bother the neighbors. Let me tell you how he begs me for more, begs me to go harder or faster or just to clutch him tighter.”

Merle rolled his shoulder, trying to hit Rick, or at least push him away. Rick moved back to his leaning position on the table, the grin still in place on his face.

“Everything I ever did, I did for Daryl! I gave him some a’ the profits from those fucks who bought meth and shit from me, tried to make sure he had a comfortable life and got what he needed! Our daddy ain’t never brought in near enough, an’ Daryl’s job wasn’t gettin’ him nothin’, so what else was I supposed t’do?! But I didn’t start sellin’ drugs, puttin’ my ass on the line, an’ start beatin’ the bitches who got in my way just to have him take it from some cop! And when I get outta here I’m gonna kill you both, you hear me?! I’ll kill you!”

Rick walked behind Merle and closed up the tripod; that confession was all he needed to make all the charges stick and put the horrible man in front of him away for a very long time.

Merle continued to thrash about in his seat, screaming threats, as Rick calmly picked up his files and his camera and left the room.


	20. Down With The Sickness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter title is supposed to represent Daryl and Rick now being free from Merle. Merle is the sickness and he is now down. Or something like that.   
> This chapter takes place immediately after chapter 18; I just didn't want to go right into this scene without having the interrogation scene in there first. So if you want to take a moment to re-read the end of chapter 18 and refresh your memory for this one then cool, and if you don't then I don't think that really matters much. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

Rick could tell that something was wrong from the second he set foot in the house. The lights were all off, the apartment shrouded in darkness, and the smell of cooking food that he had grown used to was poignantly not there.

“Daryl?” Rick called out, feeling along the wall for a light-switch.

“Rick?” Daryl’s soft reply came just as Rick flipped the switch and flooded the living room with light.

At first Rick was relieved just to know that Daryl was still there in the apartment, that he hadn’t done something rash like move out, but once he caught sight of the man’s appearance his blood nearly turned to ice. Daryl seemed not to notice the light above him, nor from which direction Rick had come in; his head was down, his chin nearly resting on his chest, his wispy bangs falling into his eyes, which were pointed toward the floor. His fingers were clutching the leather cushions on the couch too tightly, his knuckles a frightening shade of yellow-white, the blood vessels immediately around them standing out in vivid red.

Rick dropped his briefcase right there in the foyer, dashing forward to Daryl’s side. He dropped to his knees beside the sofa and cupped Daryl’s face, trying to get the man to make eye contact with him. “Daryl, what’s wrong?”

Daryl’s eyes flickered to Rick’s for a fraction of a second before they wandered off again. He shook his head slightly, just enough to rustle the tendrils of hair still hanging in his face, almost as if he was trying to say that nothing was wrong but couldn’t find the strength to do so properly.

“Daryl, you have to talk to me; you have to tell me what’s going on.” Rick tried to keep his voice level and calm, tried not to show his distress, but inside he was screaming. His stomach was twisted in knots with worry, and he probably would have thrown up had he had much chance to actually eat anything during the day.

While he waited for the redneck to speak, Rick gently pried Daryl’s fingers from their grip on the cushions and began to knead the knuckles between his fingers, working to make their color normal again.

“I don’t… don’t really know what’s wrong, Rick.” Daryl mumbled, blinking back into awareness as the blood began to flow back into his fingers.

“Then just tell me what you’ve been thinking about. Just talk.”

Daryl bit at his lower lip, trying to process his own thoughts. “I’m just tryin’a process how I feel ‘bout the whole Merle thing. Yeah, I want him punished ‘r whatever, but I guess I never really expected this day t’come. Never really thought you’d be the one doin’ the questionin’ neither.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in. I know it must be difficult to wrap your head around. But this is a good thing; try to remember that. Now Merle can’t come back and hurt you again, or anyone else for that matter.” Rick, satisfied with the mostly-normal color Daryl’s knuckles had turned, lifted one hand back to the man’s cheek, cupping his jaw while his thumb stroked soothing circles into the redneck’s cheek.

Daryl, his guard mostly down now, leaned into Rick’s touch, pressing his cheek into the detective’s palm and reveling in the tenderness there. Rick responded accordingly, matching the pressure Daryl was putting against his hand, his thumb finding the man’s cheekbone.

“It’s not that I’m not happy ‘bout Merle gettin’ caught, ‘cause I am. I mean, I seen him put in jail dozens a’ times by now, so I guess I should prolly be used t’this by now. Just seems different this time, though, y’know?” Daryl brought his gaze back to Rick’s, blue on blue.

Rick nodded, offering what he hoped was a comforting smile. “It’s a bit more personal this time, isn’t it? After all he did to you, and our relationship… well, that’s gotta factor in, right? Back then it was just another happenstance. Merle did something stupid, got himself locked up for a while, got back out, did something else stupid, and so on. That’s not the case now; this time the charges are much more serious; this time he came after you, his own brother. Things have escalated since the last time he was put away for whatever he did.”

Daryl nodded as he listened to what Rick had to say. Rick was right, of course he was; and if Daryl was being honest with himself the man’s words did make him feel a little bit better. At least this way he wouldn’t have to look over his shoulder, metaphorically speaking, for Merle to find out that he was still seeing Rick; this way he wouldn’t have to worry about Merle carrying out his death threats to the couple because Merle was safely behind bars. Rick and Daryl were safe to be together now; Rick was safe from the hurricane of harm that was Daryl’s brother; they could be happy.

And realizing that they could be happy now made Daryl happier than he’d been in the past month.

Daryl smiled at Rick, a soft upward curvature of his lips, and leaned forward just slightly to touch his nose to Rick’s. Rick accepted the gesture graciously, snuggling his nose back against Daryl’s in a loving Eskimo-kiss.

Somehow that led to a real kiss, though who had started it neither could tell. Their lips molded together, Rick still cupping Daryl’s cheek and Daryl reaching up to grab the back of Rick’s neck and hold him in place. Daryl’s fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of the detective’s neck, gently tugging the strands as his fingers wove around them.

Their lips parted at the same time, so used to each other now, their tongues instantly twining with the other’s, and Rick tasted so damn good that Daryl couldn’t help but quietly moan into the man’s mouth. That moan resounded through Rick’s entire being and suddenly he was rising to his feet, his hands gripping Daryl’s shoulders and pushing him down into the couch.

They shifted until they were both laying lengthwise on the couch, Daryl stretched out underneath Rick, who was straddling the sides of his hips. Daryl leaned up just enough to keep his mouth in contact with Rick’s without making the other man do all the work, and reached out to undo the detective’s belt buckle.

Rick placed his fingers over Daryl’s, helping him undo the pesky belt and clasp on his work slacks. Daryl’s fingers quickly found their way into Rick’s open pants, rather than try to deal with pulling them off, or even down, his palm kneading against Rick’s stiffening member.

Rick meant to moan, meant to growl at least, but what came out was actually a rumble from his near empty stomach. His cheeks flushed pink as he pulled away from Daryl, hoping the redneck hadn’t heard, but knowing from the smirk on his face that he had.

Daryl chuckled and patted Rick’s stomach. “Sorry about not having dinner ready.”

“It’s alright. I don’t care about food, I care about you, and you were dealing with other things. I understand.” Rick shook his head, sighing at how his own body had ruined the mood.

“Do you want me to go start cooking something? I could prolly have dinner done in twenty minutes ‘r so.”

“Nah, I’ll just order a pizza. Maybe it’ll be too greasy and I’ll get to see you suck those fingers of yours again.” Rick grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at the man still stuck underneath him.

Daryl rolled his eyes. “You hopin’ that’ll lead t’me suckin’ somethin’ else, too?”

Rick winked as he made room for Daryl to sit up. “Maybe just a little.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to write a sex scene for a couple reasons.   
> 1\. I'm tired from work and didn't feel like writing more than was absolutely necessary for this chapter.   
> 2\. It wouldn't have felt right to have them go from this serious situation and a serious conversation into sex. It would have felt petty to me. So I decided a bit of kissing and heavy petting would be better for the boys than a full blown sex scene; it gave them a chance to release some tension and feel a little bit more light-hearted, but didn't take away the love and playfulness that their whole relationship has been built on. 
> 
> I'll write a sex scene soon, probably, so just be patient for it.


	21. You're The Weight Beneath My Sin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'd like to congratulate myself because: This is my longest story to date, in terms of both chapters and word-count. So hooray for me and my writing. 
> 
> I'm so sorry for not updating this sooner. I've been horribly busy with work, and life itself. Plus I actually had to think about where I wanted this chapter to go.  
> And in that area of discussion, I decided I wanted this chapter to be smutty, because TheWalkingDeadLover requested some shower sex and that gave me the idea for this chapter. So I hope I did it justice. 
> 
> The chapter title comes from the song Weight Beneath My Sin by Five Finger Death Punch (it's on their newest album which is fucking beautiful and perfect and amazing and you should go listen to it now). If you've ever heard the song you'll know that it's not exactly positive or loving or anything. But this lyric seemed to fit Rick and Daryl in a more positive way. It made more sense in my head, but I hope you all understand me. 
> 
> Also, if you ship Caryl as well as Dick (like I do) then I'd like to ask you to go take a look at two of my more recent fics: We've Become Desolate and Land Of Confusion (which will be updated soon).  
> If that's not your forte, and you'd like to see something creepy/angsty involving our dear boys here, then I'd like to direct your attention to a recently written one-shot called Follow The Hopeless And Shut Your Eyes. Because sometimes it's fun to read something other than smut, love, and fluff, right?  
> I know I'm self-promoting here, but not a lot of people have read those fics mentioned above, and I'd really like to get some more feedback on them. Your feedback, no matter what work it's for, helps me grow as a writer in every aspect, and gives me ideas for every story I write. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter.

Rick stood under the spray of warm water in his shower, his head tilted forward so that the water would hit his neck and shoulders. It had been a long day and he was still tense, and the tizzy he and Daryl had worked themselves into before dinner hadn’t helped him any. He needed the release that hadn’t come.

But he wasn’t about to go pestering Daryl for sex after everything else that had happened today, regardless of how willing he had seemed earlier. Rick would feel like he was taking advantage of the redneck’s confused and vulnerable position, and he couldn’t do that to someone he loved. So he would take care of himself tonight, and if his thoughts strayed to all the naughty things he wanted to do to Daryl while he finished his business, well Rick would be the only one to know.

Rick lifted his head slightly, letting the water cascade over his mussed hair and slack face, opening his mouth to catch some before spitting it out again. It helped refresh him, helped clear his head, and suddenly gave him the fantasy he needed to get hard instantly.

He gripped his cock in his right hand, his other braced against the shower wall, and began to slowly knead himself with his thumb and forefinger, working from base to tip and back again.

In his mind Daryl was in the shower with him, both of them soaking wet with water and well-earned sweat. Daryl was the one touching him, working him, making him pant with want. Daryl was leaning up to kiss him, and God if he didn’t look just so fucking sexy with that long hair plastered against his forehead and cheeks and his eyes dark as a raging storm while he did so. Those perfectly lush lips connected with his, and he whimpered over just that simple touch.

A groan escaped Rick’s lips as he cupped his length in his palm, his squeeze firm as he began to pump his hand up and down at a medium pace. He wanted to savor this beautiful fantasy for as long as he possibly could, and self-control was the key to making that happen.

And perhaps Rick’s imagination was entirely too vivid, or perhaps, and this is the more likely explanation, Daryl heard Rick’s grunts, groans, and whimpers and decided to join him. Because suddenly Daryl was behind Rick, pressed flush against him, one hand roughly gripping the detective’s hip while the other covered his eager hand and pried it away from his throbbing member. Rick whimpered again, more than excited over his fantasy coming true, and then let out a low moan as Daryl’s fingers wrapped around him.

Daryl’s fingers were magic, massaging Rick as his palm moved up and down, creating the perfect amount of friction. Rick moaned again, starting to slowly thrust into Daryl’s hand. As he worked Rick, Daryl leaned his head forward, his teeth and lips latching onto the junction between Rick’s neck and shoulder. The redneck nibbled and sucked at the skin, setting Rick to moaning a hell of a lot louder than before.

Daryl wanted so badly to move up just a little bit and ravage Rick’s perfect throat, but he knew Rick wouldn’t be able to cover that up around work. So he would keep that particular desire for a better time, one when they were both more comfortable about being open about their relationship, and in the meantime he would make the rest of Rick’s body pay for his delayed interests.

Daryl began to squeeze Rick’s cock just that much more firmly, began to speed up his pumping to match Rick’s frantic gasps of breath. His nails dug roughly into the other man’s hip to pull him as close as possible, Daryl’s own hard cock resting right between Rick’s legs and driving them both a little more wild with desire.

Rick was so close now, and he continued to thrust into Daryl’s hand, trying to feel Daryl’s touch everywhere at once. He leaned his head back, managing to bump the top of Daryl’s  head with his skull, making them both chuckle. But then the pleasure took over again, and that chuckle was replaced with a ragged moan. Rick, needing to touch the redneck in some way, reached a hand back and gripped those locks of hair he adored so much, gripped them tightly and wound his fingers through them.

Rick’s tugging at his hair caused Daryl to bite down on the man’s shoulder just that much harder, and warm droplets of blood fell over his tongue and bottom lip.

Tasting Rick that way was so intense, and Daryl eagerly sucked at the wound he had created to catch every drop of the spilled scarlet. Sure it was a little weird, but Rick wasn’t protesting it; in fact, Rick was beginning to gasp and moan in that tell-tale way he had that said he was close to coming. There were sounds coming out of Rick that he didn’t even know he could make, his fingers gripping Daryl’s hair even tighter, as he finally found his release.

Rick came hard, damn near screaming as he spurted over the shower wall and Daryl’s fingers. His breathing was shallow and ragged as he came down from the high, his fingers slowly unwinding themselves from the other man’s hair, his hand falling back to his side as he began to catch his breath.

Rick turned, needing to see his love, needing to see him the way he had pictured him in that earlier fantasy. He gripped Daryl’s shoulders gently, pulling him under the spray; the water instantly flooded Daryl’s hair and face, soaking it until it was plastered to his skin, just the way Rick had imagine. Rick’s hands moved up from Daryl’s shoulders, sliding over his throat to cup his jaw, and then he leaned forward, capturing Daryl’s lips with his own. Daryl immediately responded, his mouth molding itself to Rick’s as his tongue darted forward, searching desperately for the detective’s.

Rick touched his tongue to Daryl’s, letting Daryl take over from there. And Daryl handled the reins well; he twirled his tongue over Rick’s, rubbing them together, their lips moving in perfect synchronization. Daryl wrapped both arms around Rick’s waist, one hand sliding up to trace the dips and curves of Rick’s back while the other roughly gripped Rick’s supple ass-cheek.

Suddenly Rick’s back was against the shower wall and both of Daryl’s hands were on his ass, one spreading him open while the other traced a finger around his entrance, teasing him. He groaned into Daryl’s mouth, and Daryl obliged him by pushing that finger in slowly, allowing Rick all the time he needed to adjust. Once Daryl was sure that Rick had gotten used the one finger he added another, and after a few more minutes a third.

Rick was practically salivating over Daryl now, groans of impatience and hunger emanating from his throat and vibrating against Daryl’s lips. Daryl, eager to get the show on the road himself, pulled back from Rick’s luscious mouth and turned him to face the wall, roughly shoving him up against it to get a better aim at Rick’s ass.

Daryl held his cock in place as he slowly pushed into Rick, giving them both plenty of time to warm up to the feeling. Once he was fully in he stayed that way for a moment, catching his breath and building the anticipation.

And then Daryl wrapped one arm around Rick’s waist, the other coming to rest against the man’s chest and pull them flush against each other, and began to thrust into Rick. Daryl’s head fell to Rick’s other shoulder, aiming to do the same damage to this one as he had done to the other. He ravaged Rick’s skin, bringing blood once more, driving them both insane with their newfound fetish.

As Daryl thrust into Rick, anything but gentle and slow, Rick realized that Daryl hadn’t come to make him feel good, Daryl had come to make himself feel good. Daryl needed to have the upper hand, needed to be in control, because it would help him remember that he still held control over his life. After everything that had happened with Merle in the recent months, after everything Daryl had suffered before that, he needed to just grab Rick tightly and fuck him like there was no tomorrow, fuck him with the passion of a thousand burning stars, make them both remember who they belonged to.

That’s why Daryl had jerked Rick off beforehand; with Rick’s orgasm out of the way Daryl was free to focus on his own, and could just let himself go without having to worry about anything else. And Rick respected that immensely; he would gladly let Daryl ravage him until he found his own release, and he’d thank the redneck while he did it.

So that’s what Rick did. He moaned, he gasped, he cursed affectionately, and above all he cried Daryl’s name. And Daryl responded beautifully. Daryl brought his hands down, digging his nails into the flesh of Rick’s hips, pulling Rick back as he thrust forward, his mouth still biting and sucking on the skin around Rick’s shoulders and upper-back.

Rick’s blood flowed from the skin Daryl continued to break open, but the pain heightened his every sensation, made his skin tingle and made the pleasure that much greater. And damn if Rick didn’t beg Daryl to bite down even harder, to fuck him even harder, more than a few times.

Daryl came inside Rick, his teeth sinking into Rick’s shoulder-blade with a wonderful sort of agony as his fingers dug bruises into Rick’s hips, and Rick cried out as he came for the second time that night, even without the assistance of his own touch or Daryl’s.

Rick slumped against the wall as Daryl pulled out, both of them panting. Daryl touched Rick’s shoulders gently, his fingers trailing over the marks he had made.

Rick turned back to face Daryl and kissed him once more, sweetly this time, both of their needs thus far satiated.


	22. I'll Never Let This Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was actually going to be something much different, something kind of heavy, but I decided I just wanted to write some sweet fluffiness for right now. I have work in about an hour and a half, anyway, so I don't really have the time or brain capacity to write what I had originally planned. 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy.

The two men, now fresh and clean from their shower, fell into bed early that night. Daryl’s eyes had adopted the droopy-lidded stare they normally did when he was starting to get sleepy, a soft smile spread over his face at their little tryst, and damn if he wasn’t just the cutest thing as he laid his head on the pillow and pulled the covers up to his chin. Rick swore he could just stare at the man forever when he looked like that, could just watch him sleep all through the night. But Rick was tired, too, or at the very least his body was, so he simply turned off the light and crawled into bed beside the man he loved.

Daryl rolled onto his side, his back to Rick, and once he was under the covers the detective molded himself to the redneck’s body. He threw an arm over Daryl’s hip, pressing his chest into the other man’s back, and propped his chin on the man’s shoulder. He leaned forward, peppering the redneck’s face with light kisses, breathing in the wonderful and unique scent of Daryl that he couldn’t seem to get enough of.

Daryl chuckled at Rick’s kisses, reveling in the flutter of the detective’s lips against his skin. “What’re ya doin’?” He mumbled, his voice mired by his tiredness.

“Kissing you. What does it feel like I’m doing?” Rick laughed lightly, his breath ghosting over Daryl’s hair, making him shiver.

Thinking that Daryl’s shiver meant he was cold, Rick wrapped his arm tighter around the other man. He then dipped his head, kissing along Daryl’s jaw to his neck, and from there trailing over the plane of his shoulder.

Daryl sighed in contentment, cuddling back into Rick’s embrace, his whispered words floating into the shadows around them. “Love ya, Rick, more’n anythin’ else in this world.”

Rick leaned up so that he was slightly on top of Daryl, though not pressing into him. He cupped the man’s chin in the hand still around him, and gently tilted his head to the side. Daryl’s eyes fluttered open, the movement catching Rick’s eye in the faint shimmer of moonlight streaming in through the slightly parted curtains, searching for Rick’s own in the darkness.

Daryl’s lips parted as if he were about to speak, but before he could make a sound Rick covered those lips with his own. The kiss was sweet and gentle, kind and giving, and asked for nothing in return but the love that was being offered, and Daryl’s response gave it all back in spades. Their lips moved together in perfect harmony, tongues touching to each other delicately, though neither fully breached the other’s mouth, and their breaths grew short and heavy.

Rick knew that if they kept this up any longer he was liable to get too excited, just like he had earlier, and so he pulled back, his mouth leaving Daryl’s with a soft popping sound of released suction.

Daryl reached up, his fingertips grazing Rick’s cheek, and it felt almost like a plea for him not to go. But Rick would never leave Daryl’s side, would never let him go; he just knew that the other man was tired, and wanted to allow him the time to rest.

“I’m right here, Daryl. I’m not going anywhere; I never will.” Rick whispered, kissing the man’s palm that was still close to his face.

“But you have work tomorrow.” Daryl mumbled, the sleep addling his brain.

Rick chuckled, moving his lips to Daryl’s fingertips and kissing each of them in turn. “You know what I mean, silly. I may have other life obligations, but my heart and soul belongs to you.”

Rick could see Daryl’s lips curve upward into his patented side-long smirk, and even in the darkness it made his heard melt. Daryl let his hand fall away from Rick’s cheek, hitting the side of the pillow with a muted thud.

“Mine, too, Rick. Every piece a’ me b’longs to you now, an’ I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Daryl snuggled himself down into the pillows and blankets once more, and Rick knew he was about another breath away from Neverland.

So Rick just leaned down and pressed a kiss to Daryl’s temple, then moved back into the position he had taken up about ten minutes prior. He held Daryl close, listening to the man’s breaths become longer and slower as he fell into slumber, grinning at the quiet snores that filled the emptiness around them.

But try as he might, Rick just couldn’t fall asleep. He kept hearing Daryl’s words replaying in his head: _“Love ya, Rick, more’n anythin’ else in this world.”_ Daryl had never been so vocal about his feelings before, especially not those good kinds of feelings about love. It was probably just the sleepiness talking in Daryl, making his walls come down a bit, making his mouth open and spill forth the words Rick always longed to hear.

Sure, they’d both said things like “I love you” but that was a blanket statement compared to what they both felt for each other. Rick could see everything lying under those three words burning under Daryl’s eyes every time they turned his way, could feel it all coursing through the electricity he felt whenever Daryl touched him, even in the simplest way. But Daryl never said much more than that, and Rick never pushed him about it.

Tonight was like a milestone for their relationship, though Daryl might not even remember what he’d said come morning. And Rick was alright with that, because he’d know what had been said, and he’d remember it for the rest of his life, regardless of whether or not Daryl did. Maybe now Rick could say things like that more often, too; he’d love to be able to whisper sweet nothings in Daryl’s ear, though in their case he supposed they’d actually be sweet _somethings_ because he’d actually mean everything he ever said.

But he could figure out all the details later; right now he needed to sleep. Rick had to be up early for work tomorrow, and Lord only knew how the chief would react when he finally got around to watching Rick’s interrogation tape with Merle from earlier in the day. He hoped the chief would be too busy to bother with it for a little while, but he figured he wouldn’t get that lucky, considering Merle had been a priority case. But stranger things had happened.

Rick fell asleep to the feel of Daryl’s warm body against him, the taste of the redneck still on his lips, the words spoken in tiredness still resounding in his head.

And in Rick’s dreams he and Daryl were standing next to an elegantly decorated Christmas tree, a fireplace raging in the background, both of their arms curled around a beautiful baby girl wearing a red and green dress, proud smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FORESHADOWING, MOTHERFUCKERS.   
> Yes, Rick's dream is something of a peek into what I have planned for the future. As I've said, I want to write them adopting a baby, and I personally want it to be a girl. I don't know if they'll have the kid by Christmas; I'll have to retrace the timeline of the story and see. But even so, at least now you all have a nice mental image.   
> The baby thing probably won't be talked about for the next few chapters, but it is in the works and I am planning everything out for it to happen, eventually.   
> So for now you can still comment on what gender you'd like the baby to be. Voting on that probably won't be closed for a little while.


	23. A New Beginning; Can You See It Through My Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah for profound chapter titles.   
> At first this chapter was going to be split up into two parts: Daryl and Rick having a small morning discussion, and then Rick being called in by the chief at work to talk about his interrogation of Merle. Daryl and Rick's talk wasn't going to be very long, and it wasn't going to be anything close to what it is now. But clearly they had other ideas, and so I ended up devoting an entire chapter to more of their relationship's development.   
> Perhaps on the next chapter we'll finally see the chief's reaction.  
> But for now, please enjoy the fluff.

Rick peered over at Daryl’s still form from in front of the closet as he knotted his tie, watching the even rise and fall of his chest. Rick’s mind was a swirling mess of thoughts, the words Daryl had spoken during the night replaying on repeat while the image from his dreams stayed permanently fixed behind his eyelids.

He couldn’t make sense of the dream, not because it was confusing, but because he had never even given thought to a child, especially not with Daryl. It wasn’t that he thought Daryl would be an unfit father, but just that Daryl didn’t seem like the type to really want children. On that subject Rick had always been neutral; he didn’t know if he was ready to have them, if he’d ever be ready for that, but he didn’t mind dealing with them on occasion.

Having a child of his own would be much different, though. Would he even be capable of raising a child, making sure they were taken care of, and trying to ensure that they turned out right? He didn’t know the first thing about that sort of stuff, and he doubted if Daryl did either.

Besides, what would Daryl even say if Rick posed the question? Would he be willing to enter into that kind of commitment? They hadn’t even discussed their relationship in anything heavier than various sayings of “I love you”, and in Rick’s opinion their future together was probably more important than the subject of children.

Rick would have loved nothing more than to put a ring on Daryl’s finger, make the redneck his in the very deepest sense of the word, even if they had to go through one of those domestic partnership type ceremonies to do so. But did Daryl want that? And regardless of whether or not he did, how could Rick ever bring that subject up to him? They’d been together for a while now, about two months all in all, but it felt a whole hell of a lot longer to Rick, and he knew that no one would ever make him feel the way Daryl did.

But maybe Daryl didn’t feel the same. Maybe Daryl would change his mind in another month, try to track Carol down, or find some other woman to entertain him. Maybe Daryl would stay with Rick, but only in their tentative style of relationship that bordered just on the fence between serious and not-so.

These were things they needed to discuss, but they were also things Rick had no ability to give voice to. It figured, really; you could put the man in a room with a known serial killer and he’d be cool as a cucumber, but get him thinking about his future with Daryl and he was a nervous wreck. But then, matters of the self are rarely handled lightly.

Rick thought about these things as he straightened his tie and shrugged into his suit jacket. He thought about these things as he silently crept to Daryl’s side of the bed, staring at him for one long moment, watching him sleep as a guardian angel might watch over their assigned soul. He thought of these things as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss into Daryl’s temple. And he thought of these things as he turned and left the room.

Rick had just entered the hallway when a muffled “Rick?” wafted to him on a breath of air. He turned back, stepping into the bedroom to see Daryl sitting up in bed, the sheets a puddle around his middle. Daryl balanced himself easily on one arm, his hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Goodmorning.” Rick smiled, speaking softly. Daryl’s hair was a damn mess, and he seemed to barely register where he was, but fuck if he wasn’t the most gorgeous person Rick had ever laid eyes on.

Daryl yawned and pushed the hair out of his eyes. “Mornin’.”

“Everything alright?” Rick asked, moving further into the room; he came to rest at the foot of the bed.

Daryl bit his lip for a moment, turning his eyes to his hands, which were now wringing the comforter. “Just wanted to tell ya that...”

Rick waited patiently while Daryl composed his thoughts. Finally, Daryl raised his head, his eyes locking onto Rick’s with a newfound determination. “What I said last night? I meant it, Rick, every damn word. I shoulda said all that a lot sooner, ‘cause ya deserved to hear it. I don’t know what the future holds fer us, or how you’ll think ‘bout me in another day or week or month, but I know you’ll always be the keeper of my heart.”

Rick walked over to Daryl’s side of the bed and knelt there, placing his hands over Daryl’s and clasping them tightly. “And you mine. My love for you will never change, Daryl.”

Daryl’s eyes lit up, the blue waters sparkling. His lips curved unto a gentle smile, and then he leaned forward, pressing those lips to Rick’s. Rick kissed him back, all the love and adoration they he felt melting from his mouth and flowing to Daryl’s. He shifted their hands so that he could twine their fingers together, and both gripped the other as tightly as possible.

After a moment Rick pulled back and opted to press his forehead to Daryl’s instead. They breathed the same air, their eyes closed and cheeks flushed, Daryl’s hair falling between them and tickling Rick’s face.

Rick’s thoughts strayed again to his dream from the night before, and after hearing Daryl’s new admission he felt more compelled to tell the other man about it. Daryl would love him no matter what, just as he would love Daryl in the same way; besides, Rick wasn’t asking Daryl to have a child with him, just telling him about a fantasy his subconscious had conjured up without rhyme or reason. What was the harm in that?

“I had a dream last night.” Rick began, his breath fanning over Daryl’s face in a not-unpleasant sort of way.

“What was it about?” Daryl asked.

“It was Christmas time, and you and I were standing in front of this beautifully decorated tree. There was a fire going in the fireplace, and it was probably night time because the tree was lit up and the curtains were drawn. And we were standing so close together that there wasn’t an inch of space between us, both of our arms circling a… a baby girl, in a red and green dress. She had a shock of red hair and bright green eyes, and she was gorgeous. And we were just smiling down at her with this overwhelming sense of pride, and she was ours; she was our daughter.” Rick pulled away from Daryl as he finished speaking, trying to measure the other man’s reaction.

Daryl stared at Rick, something like incredulity dancing across his features for a moment. His blue eyes were wide and unsure, and Rick almost felt like he’d made a mistake in telling Daryl about the dream. But the words were out now, and there was nothing he could do to change that; so he would wait for Daryl to speak, and let the chips fall where they may.

“Are you trying to tell me somethin’, Rick?” Daryl asked, speaking slowly.

“What would I be trying to tell you, Daryl, other than what I happened to dream about?”

Daryl shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe you’re tryin’a tell me you want kids ‘r somethin’.”

“Well…” Rick began, trying to process the emotions just now coming to the surface inside of him.

Did he want kids? Did Daryl? Did he want to have kids with Daryl? Would he make a good father? Would Daryl make a good father?

And as he asked himself these things he realized that yes, he did want children, and he most certainly wanted to have them with Daryl. He wanted them to be a family together with the little girl from his dream.

“Yes, I think I do want children. And what’s more, I want to have them with you, Daryl.”

Daryl’s eyes went wide, a lump forming in his throat that he couldn’t even seem to breathe around. He’d never even considered having children; he never thought he’d find someone he loved enough to try and raise them with in the first place. But now he had Rick, and he trusted Rick with his life. He loved Rick more than any words could express, and he wanted Rick to be happy, wanted to bring joy to Rick’s life in every possible way.

Daryl had been good with Sophia, back when he’d dated Carol. Sophia had been a polite, sweet girl, but she had also been a child, and had thought of childish things. And Daryl had spent time with her, had listened to her childish thoughts and hopes and dreams, had even grown close to her. Sophia had hugged him more than a few times, and Daryl had been completely comfortable hugging her back and ruffling her short blond hair. He’d even picked her up and swung her around playfully on occasion.

Daryl already had some experience, and maybe that meant that he was father material after all. And if having a child would make Rick happy, then Daryl would gladly agree to that.

“Y’know, Rick, I think I’d like that, too. A little girl to call our own, to raise and nurture. I think we could handle that sorta thing just fine.” Daryl’s lips curved into his side-long smirk, and he gave the detective’s hands a gentle squeeze.

Now it was Rick’s turn to be shocked, his own eyes going wide as Daryl’s had done just minutes earlier. He stared into Daryl’s face, reading the completely sincerity there, and felt like the luckiest man on the face of the earth.

Within seconds his arms were wrapped tightly around Daryl’s shoulders and waist in a gripping hug, tears of joy forming in the corner of his eyes. He felt Daryl’s arms encircle him, felt the redneck place soft kisses against the side of his neck, and then the tears spilled over; Rick couldn’t keep the happiness, the love and adoration he felt for Daryl, in any longer.

Rick was full on sobbing in just a few moments, Daryl rubbing soothing circles into his back. “Thank you, Daryl. Thank you for giving me this new life, for giving me a new reason to live. Thank you for giving me this new beginning.”

Daryl shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “No, Rick, thank _you_ for giving all of those things to _me_.”


	24. Matter Of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was trying to settle on who the chief should be, and it took me a little while to decide, because everyone I thought of had either already been mentioned or didn't fit quite right.   
> So I ended up choosing the Governor. And before you get all uppity, hear me out on the reasons why:  
> \- His personality is very strong, and he's a natural leader  
> \- He's understanding when he wants to be  
> \- He'll cut corners to get what he wants  
> At this point he's still a normal person. His daughter is still alive, as is his wife, so there's no opportunity for him to go insane (though none of that is actually mentioned in this chapter).  
> He won't be featured more than once anyway, and that one time is here and now.   
> So don't be too displeased with my choice, and enjoy the chapter.

“Grimes, get in here!” The chief’s shout shot out from across the room and reached Rick’s desk in less than a second, and it took even less time than that for every pair of eyes to find their way to him.

Rick clenched his jaw, willing himself to stand tall and proud and not be affected by the stares. He shrugged back into his suit jacket, which he had hung on the back of his desk chair as soon as he’d gotten in to work, as he walked the short distance from his desk to the chief’s office. He even managed to straighten his tie with his shaking fingers, a feat that on any other day would be celebrated.

As soon as he set foot in the chief’s office Rick closed the door and stood behind the two uncomfortable chairs set in front of the chief’s desk. “Yes, sir?”

Phillip Blake, the chief, leveled Rick with a withering one-eyed glare. His other eye was covered up by a simple black patch, and the reason behind that ranged from him longing to be a pirate to him having been a spy who was tortured for information. In reality, his right eye had been shot out during a tour in Iraq, back when he’d been a Marine. The bullet had gone in diagonally, piercing through his eye socket and exiting around the side of his head, narrowly missing his brain. The man was lucky to be alive, luckier still to have every function remain intact and only suffer a mild annoyance of limited sight.

“Sit down, Rick; we have a few things to discuss.” Phillip leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingertips together, his lips pressed into a hard line as he watched the man in front of him.

Rick did as he was told, sitting with his back ramrod-straight, his hands folded in his lap as if he were back in elementary school. He tried to keep his outward demeanor calm, but he knew trouble was coming.

“First of all, you wanna explain this to me?” Phillip asked, opening a drawer and pulling out a tape.

A lump formed in Rick’s throat as Phillip threw the tape down on top of a pile of paperwork in front of him. He didn’t have to be told that that was the video of his interrogation of Merle. Dammit, why didn’t he just remain professional like he was supposed to? Why did he have to let his emotions slip and taunt Merle? Sure, it had been fun to see the man sputter and rage like he had, but Rick figured the tape would be thrown out because of his personal involvement with the suspect, which meant the case would be thrown out due to insufficient evidence, which meant Merle would walk free, which meant Rick could lose his job or worse, he could lose Daryl.

Rick’s thoughts were a raging torrent of worry and negativity, but still he spoke calmly. “What would you like me to explain, sir?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Rick. You and I both know what’s on this tape. Why didn’t you tell me that you had a personal involvement with Merle?” Phillip rested his arms on the tabletop and leaned forward, his one good eye boring into Rick.

“I don’t have a personal involvement with Mr. Dixon, sir. I knew from previous interviews with his brother, Daryl, and with people who claimed to be his friends that Merle was quite homophobic, and was also very protective of Daryl.

“Daryl had told me during a questioning session that Merle had become paranoid due to his frequent drug usage, and that he had the inane fear that Daryl was a closet homosexual having relations with an officer on the force. That was also why he was hiding in the woods: he believed that Daryl would tell the officer he was having those supposed relations with where Merle was if he had gone anywhere else.

“I just used the information available to me to my advantage, sir. It was just an interrogation technique, nothing more.” Rick couldn’t believe how easily these lies slipped from his mouth. He hadn’t even given thought to this matter beforehand, had no suitable story prepared, and yet here he was giving the most perfect sounding excuse in the book and doing it well.

Phillip stared at him a few moments longer, searching for chinks in Rick’s armor or holes in his story, measuring the man’s demeanor for any kind of nervousness or guilt. And for a fleeting moment Rick was filled with hope; the chief believed his story, wouldn’t ask him any other questions, would let the whole incident slide, and he wouldn’t have to say a word about his actual involvement with Daryl and Merle.

Phillip’s next words hit Rick like a punch to the jaw. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Grimes. You and I both know that you have some kind of personal tie with Merle, so spill it right now or I’ll have to suspend you.”

Rick sighed, averting his gaze to the floor as he slumped slightly in his chair. He had truly thought he’d gotten away with his stupid mistake, that he wouldn’t have to divulge the details of his personal life. But his job was more important than the secrets of his personal life.

“What I said on the tape is true. I am having relations with Daryl, Merle’s brother. I knew telling Merle about that and confirming his suspicious would make him angry, and I hoped that anger would fuel a confession, which it did.” Rick’s words were whispered, his head bowed.

The two men were silent for many minutes after that, and Rick was certain his job was in jeopardy, even though he’d come clean about everything. They say no good deed goes unpunished, and Rick was fairly certain he was about to learn just how true that saying was.

“Why didn’t you just tell me before? We could have gotten Morgan to interrogate Merle instead.” Phillip’s voice was gentle, offering comfort.

Rick raised his head, meeting Phillip’s eye, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I was… embarrassed. I didn’t want you, or anyone else, to think less of me for who I chose to be in a relationship with. So I kept it hidden. It was easier just to interrogate Merle myself and use my relationship with Daryl against him, and hope that I could explain it away later, than it would have been to confess all of this.”

Phillip nodded, carefully contemplating Rick’s words. “I understand that. Truly, I do. I wouldn’t have judged you, Rick. What you do in your personal life isn’t my concern; my concern is keeping criminals like Merle off the street. But you made a mistake that could cost us this whole case, and that’s what bothers me the most about this whole situation.”

Rick ducked his head again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I apologize, sir. I just got carried away during the interrogation, and I let things slip that shouldn’t have.”

Phillip sighed, tapping his fingers over the tape between them. And then he smiled. “Tell you what, Rick, we’ll keep this whole thing between us. We’ll submit the tape as evidence, and when they ask questions you tell ‘em the same thing you told me before the truth came out. You’re convincing enough that they’ll probably believe you, maybe even commend you for such wonderful interrogative techniques. And we’ll pretend this whole thing never happened.”

Rick’s head snapped up fast enough to damn near give him whip-lash. “Really?”

“Really, really.”

“Thank you, sir.” Rick rose from the chair, offering his hand out to shake the other man’s.

Phillip took Rick’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “Just don’t let this happen again; I won’t be able to let this slide a second time.”

Rick nodded as he pulled his hand back. “I promise you  it won’t.”


	25. Coming Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title is supposed to represent the stress in Rick's life coming down, so that he can just breathe and be with Daryl. It doesn't fit quite how I hoped it would, though.   
> This chapter is mostly smut, with a dash of plot thrown in to tie it all back to the story. I couldn't really think of what else to write for an update. This smut was kind of hard to write for some reason, too. Like it felt awkward and choppy.  
> But if you guys like it then I won't overthink it too much.   
> Enjoy.

Rick left work that day near-jubilant, a smile plastered on his face. Everything was finally working in his favor; Merle was in jail, and would remain there for a very long time thanks to his little confession, Phillip had let his personal relations, and the mention of them on recorded video, slide, and he had Daryl to come home to.

And speaking of coming home to Daryl, he had to remind himself to drive the speed limit and not dart up the stairs to his apartment lest someone think him a little off his rocker.

Finally, though, Rick was home. He burst through the door, quickly shutting and locking it behind him, threw his things somewhere into the living room, and found a very surprised looking Daryl standing in the kitchen.

“What -” Daryl began, but Rick cut him off, grabbing him around the waist and pressing a passionate kiss to his lips.

Daryl’s eyes closed and he sighed in contentment as he kissed Rick back, letting the detective’s mouth move against his. He had a fleeting worry about the food in the oven or on the stove burning, but with Rick kissing him this way nothing else really mattered much.

Rick pulled back after a few minutes, leaning his forehead against Daryl’s as they both caught their breath. Both men were smiling, and Daryl’s cheeks had taken on that slightly flushed pink color that Rick loved so much. Rick brought his lips up, kissing both of Daryl’s cheeks, and then moved back down to the redneck’s mouth, pecking his lips repeatedly and causing him to make a sound that was a lot like a giggle.

“Nice to see you, too, Rick.” Daryl muttered, shaking his head at Rick’s antics with a grin. “I’m guessing you had a good day at work ‘r somethin’? ‘Cause surely you can’t be this happy just t’see lil’ ol’ me.”

Rick rolled his eyes, the smile never leaving his face. “Yes, I did have a good day at work, but I’m always this happy to see you. I just keep myself in check sometimes because I’m sure if I was this overly affectionate all the time you’d get annoyed with me.”

“Hmm, I dunno ‘bout that. This is kinda nice.” Daryl smirked, the special side-long one meant especially for Rick, and wrapped an arm around the other man’s shoulders to pull him just that much closer.

“Maybe I will act this way more often, then.” Rick chuckled, pressing a kiss to Daryl’s lips once more.

Rick did so love that mouth of Daryl’s. Daryl’s lips were soft and supple and felt like velvet against Rick’s own, and if it were up to him he’d never stop kissing the man. Thankfully, whenever Rick did come in for a kiss Daryl gave it back to him in spades, never refusing him or pushing him away, always willing and welcoming to his affections. Rick really had found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow with Daryl; though maybe they were a double rainbow and a double shot of gold, since they both loved each other so immensely.

Daryl brought his hand up to the back of Rick’s neck, curling his fingers in the hair there, and held Rick in place as his tongue darted forward and ran over the other man’s bottom lip. Rick parted his lips with a soft groan, and Daryl let his tongue slide into Rick’s mouth, instantly finding and twining with the detective’s tongue.

They made out for several minutes, neither one too eager to part. But finally Daryl remembered his responsibilities and pulled back from Rick. Rick pouted, and Daryl laughed, giving him a gentle pat on the back.

“Food’s gonna burn, Rick.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about the food.”

Rick’s hand unwound from around Daryl’s middle and snaked between them, his palm coming to rest on the growing bulge in Daryl’s pants. Daryl let out a soft whimper and bit his lip, trying to move around Rick before things got too heated and they burned the whole damn building down.

“Seems to me you don’t care much for the food right now either, Daryl.” Rick grinned, his eyes growing dark with hunger of a different kind, and tilted his head to one side, his teeth latching onto Daryl’s throat.

Daryl groaned, tipping his head back so that Rick would have better access. He was in no position to argue with Rick, and if he were being honest he really wasn’t that hungry, at least not for food. Part of him actually just really wanted to bite Rick, bite him hard enough to bring blood, and just gain his nourishment from that. But he realized how weird that was, and so kept his mouth shut about it, though a blush did color his cheeks and even darker pink than before.

Rick kneaded Daryl’s crotch with his thumb, letting out a soft chuckle as the hardness continued to grow in his palm, and then unzipped the man’s jeans. He quickly found that Daryl wasn’t wearing underwear, a pleasant surprise, and his fingers latched around the man’s cock, squeezing gently as he began to move his hand across the entire length.

“Rick,” Daryl breathed out with a moan. It was the only thing he said, and the only thing he needed to say; whispering Rick’s name was a form of encouragement, a plea for more, and that word carried all the love Daryl held for the man in his heart.

And Rick responded better than Daryl had hoped; his teeth sunk deeper into Daryl’s flesh at the same time as he increased the pressure on Daryl’s cock, the miniscule pain mingling with the immense pleasure, and Daryl gasped out.

Daryl’s fingers unwound themselves from Rick’s hair and clamped onto the back of his shirt instead, damn near ripping the collar right from its seams; his other hand gripped the counter with white knuckles.

Rick continued to stroke and bite Daryl, his other arm removing itself from Daryl’s waist to undo his pants and pull them down, along with his boxers, just enough to get at his own aching cock. Once that was achieved, his slid Daryl’s pants down his thighs, setting his cock free and making things easier on both of them.

As soon as he was bare, Daryl pushed his hips forward into Rick’s hand. The tip of his cock brushed along the side of Rick’s, and gave Daryl a wicked idea. He reached down and placed a hand over Rick’s wrist, stilling his movements, and then lined the two of them up, their cocks side-by-side. With Rick’s hand on one side, Daryl’s hand on the other, and both of them pressed together they could rut against each other and gain mutual pleasure.

Rick followed Daryl’s lead, groaning as their hips rose and fell as one. He rose his head from Daryl’s swan-like neck, planting his mouth firmly against the other man’s once again. They moaned into each other’s mouths, biting at each other’s lips and tongues, and God everything just felt so damn _good_.

Soon, much too soon for either of their likings, they were coming, spurting over each other’s thighs and dripping onto their pants. Rick brought both of his arms up and around Daryl’s waist once more, pulling the other man flush against his chest, kissing him with all the passion of a raging storm.

Daryl placed one hand on Rick’s lower back, the other one travelling lower down to squeeze the detective’s ass cheek. He couldn’t help but chuckle at Rick’s slight jump.

“Love you.” Daryl mumbled against Rick’s lips when the man finally gave his mouth back to him.

“Love you, too.” Rick murmured back.

Then Rick rustled up some paper towels to clean them both off, and once that was finished Daryl returned to trying to salvage dinner.

~ ~ ~

Their dinner was indeed burnt, but only slightly. The chicken’s parmesan crusting had gotten a little too brown, but it was easily scraped away. The noodles were a little bit more tough and chewy than either would have liked, the noodles sticking together in odd little clumps, but Rick wouldn’t dare complain when he was the reason they were like this in the first place.

Rick smiled and endured the food, happy just to be sharing Daryl’s company, but Daryl pushed his food around his plate with his fork, his eyes seeming distant.

“Something wrong?” Rick asked, reaching across the table to touch the back of Daryl’s hand with his fingertips.

Daryl glanced up, seeming startled by Rick. His eyes settled on Rick’s, and he smiled, but it didn’t seem quite right. “Nah, I’m fine.”

“Something on your mind?”

Daryl shrugged. “Kinda.”

Rick lightly swirled his fingertips over Daryl’s skin, unwilling to break their contact. “What is it?”

Daryl sighed, averting his eyes from Rick’s once more. “I’m just thinkin’ ‘bout this morning.”

Rick’s heart clenched in his chest, a lump forming in his throat. Here was the end of his good mood, his promising future. “What about it?”

“Well, it’s just…” Daryl shook his head and took a breath, trying to compose his thoughts. “Do you really wanna have kids, Rick? With me?”


	26. Can You Help Me Unbend? I'm So Scared That I'll Never Get Put Back Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is long and profound, and it comes from the song Bent by Matchbox Twenty which is perfect and beautiful and fits this chapter quite well, so you should all give it a listen. 
> 
> I've been meaning to write this chapter for a few days now, I just didn't have the time or the motivation, and I wanted to be able to sit down and write it when I had no other distractions or worries so that I could make sure it came out perfectly, which it did. Because this chapter is like a total turning point in Rick and Daryl's relationship, and there's a lot of development for both of them, and just enough angst type stuff to satisfy you without it being horrendous. There's also fluff and love and trust and just jdsfkjhskjdhkl I'm fangirling over my own writing how fucking weird is that?
> 
> Ok I'll quit babbling now so you can all go off and enjoy the chapter.

Rick pulled his hand back, his fingers leaving Daryl’s skin abruptly, causing him to frown; he figured Rick would be upset by his questions. Rick averted his eyes, bringing them down to stare at the half-eaten chicken and pasta on his plate, and suddenly felt his stomach drop down to the soles of his shoes; his appetite disappeared, and part of him felt like throwing up.

That morning everything had seemed so promising, and Rick had come home with a light heart and love coursing through his veins. He had been so sure of himself, so sure of his future, and now it seemed that everything was crumbling through his fingers like dust.

But Daryl’s question made Rick really sit up and take stock of himself. Did he want children? He thought so, but maybe that stupid dream had just planted itself into his head and was screwing with his normal thought pattern. He’d never really thought about kids before, certainly never thought about having them with Lori. They’d taken every possible precaution just to make sure that they wouldn’t have children. But along comes Daryl and now suddenly Rick wants to settle down and raise a family?

So say they didn’t adopt a child. Rick would still have Daryl, and that was enough for him. If Daryl didn’t want kids, then that wouldn’t bother Rick too much, because at least Daryl would still want him. But as Rick thought that he felt a certain sort of empty ache squeeze into his chest and wrap itself around his heart. Yes, Rick could be satisfied with just Daryl for the rest of his life, but at the end of it all he’d regret that he never got to be a father, got to pass on his own type of legacy to a new generation, and he’d regret more than anything that he’d never gotten to see Daryl do the same.

It only took Rick a few minutes to figure all that out, but to Daryl it felt like an eternity, and with every passing second he felt more worried about their relationship. They’d been so strong, especially recently, but maybe now he really had blown it. It was just like him to fuck up the only good thing in his life. He should have kept his mouth shut about the kid situation, let Rick have his fun. If Rick wanted kids then what did it matter? Daryl could probably follow Rick’s lead, stay more in the background of the child’s life and try not to fuck the kid up too badly. But, God, was he afraid to be a father.

When Rick finally did speak, it took Daryl by surprise considering how wrapped up he was in his own thoughts.

“Daryl, I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life, aside from my love for you. When I was with Lori I never wanted to be a father. We did everything we could to make sure she didn’t get pregnant, and we were happy that way. Hell, if I’d stayed with her I think I would have been content never to be a father at all. But things are different with you, Daryl, and that’s not just because you’re not a woman. You might be a little rough around the edges, but you’re raw and you’re real and you’re not afraid of life. I admire that in you, how you’re willing to just live and breathe and _be_. And I think that you’re the only person I could ever see myself raising a child with; you’re the only person I picture beside me when I think about my future, the only person I want there, and I want us to be like a real couple. Who cares that we’re both men? Who cares what society thinks, or what your brother thoughts, or any of that? We love each other, and we’re both mature, capable, responsible adults. I believe that we’d do a damn good job raising a kid, and if I’m being honest I’d really like to see you cradling a baby in your arms, smiling proudly as it coos up at you with wide eyes.” Rick smirked, finally making eye contact with Daryl once more, and Daryl couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his own face.

Everything Rick had said made perfect sense, but Rick was wrong about one thing: Daryl was afraid. Maybe not of life or his brother or anything like that. But he was afraid that he wouldn’t be a good father to this kid that Rick wanted so much. He was afraid that every day he’d make some new mistake in the poor thing’s life and it would grow up to hate him, just like everyone else but Rick seemed to hate him.

“I’m just scared, Rick.” Daryl mumbled, the words falling from his lips without his permission.

“What are you scared of, Daryl?” Rick asked, laying his hand over the redneck’s again.

Daryl bit at his lip, his eyes darting nervously between his plate and Rick’s gentle fingers on his skin. He had no idea what to say now, no clue how to truly reveal his fears to his partner. But a relationship is built on trust, and so he had to be the one to take the leap and show Rick that he trusted him completely, without a doubt.

“I’m scared that if we have a kid I’ll turn into my own father. I’m scared that I’ll get mad about one thing or another and… and hurt the kid. Maybe without even really meaning to. Because that kind of thing… well, it’s in the genetics, too, ain’t it? And it’s not just that; I’m scared that I just won’t be a good dad in general. I’m scared I’ll fuck the kid up, that it’ll hate me when it grows up. I don’t know the first thing ‘bout raisin’ a child, Rick.” Daryl lifted his eyes to Rick’s, the blue orbs having taken on a watery sheen.

“Daryl,” Rick began, having to clench his jaw against the onslaught of tears that threatened to spill over at how full of despair Daryl had become. It was so hard to see the man he loved look that way, especially when Rick didn’t know how to fix the problem and make Daryl feel less sad.

So he just took a breath and asked the first logical question that came to mind. “Daryl, what did your father do to you?”

Daryl’s bottom lip quivered for a fraction of a second, and then he dipped his head down, breaking contact with Rick, at the same time as he pushed his chair back. Rick was afraid Daryl was going to leave, either to the bedroom to compose himself or right out the front door, but then Daryl slowly came around to his side of the table and stopped.

Rick stared up at Daryl, unsure of how to proceed, waiting for Daryl to say or do something.

“There’s… somethin’ I oughta show you. Doubt if you’ve seen any of my scars before; I’ve been pretty careful in coverin’ ‘em up.” Daryl’s words were hushed, his tone quiet and somber.

And then he quickly pulled off his shirt and, before he could chicken out and flee, turned so that his back was facing Rick. He clenched his jaw, knowing that now that Rick could see just how damaged the goods were he wouldn’t want them anymore, knowing that this was probably the biggest mistake he’d ever made in his life. But this was the only way to show Rick his fears, and his past, and try to make him understand why he was the way he was.

Rick could do nothing but stare wordlessly for several minutes, his eyes tracing and re-tracing the myriad of scars on Daryl’s back. There were so many marks Rick couldn’t even count them all, not that he really wanted to anyway. And suddenly he realized exactly what Daryl’s childhood had been like, and he understood every apprehension the man still held in his heart, every doubt about himself that he continued to carry like a burden on his shoulders.

Rick reached up, trailing his fingers over the most prominent of the scars, the long ones forming awkward ‘X’s and cross shapes that ran across his upper back, between the shoulder blades, and along his left side. He even touched at the tattoo on Daryl’s upper right side, Daryl’s own addition to the permanent scars already there on his back.

Rick didn’t have the words to say to convey his second-hand sorrow for the man before him. He didn’t have the words, period. There was nothing he could say, because all logical strings of thought had left his mind just as the breath had left his lungs. To think that someone could do this to their own child, their sweet young boy with a heart of gold, was simply sickening, and Rick knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was not the type of person that Daryl was. Rick knew that Daryl would never do this to his own child, because Daryl was too good, too kind-hearted, too aware of the damages that would be done if he did.

Rick continued to trace Daryl’s scars for a moment, and then brought his other hand up to Daryl’s side. He kept both hands on Daryl’s back as he stood, trailing them over the other man’s skin, and then gently wrapped his arms around Daryl’s shoulders. Daryl damn near collapsed against Rick, needing the loving embrace more than he was willing to say, and Rick caught him more than willingly, tightening his arms across the man’s chest and keeping him upright.

Daryl’s body shook, his silent sobs wracking through him, and Rick took every vibration into himself. He kissed at Daryl’s neck, shoulders, cheeks, hair, and any other inch of exposed skin his lips could reach. He breathed “shhh” against Daryl’s ears, whispering to him sweet somethings of “it’ll be alright”, “I’m here”, and “I love you.”

“I just couldn’t handle bein’ like him.” Daryl choked out between hitched breaths, hanging his head low. “An’ if that means I can’t ever have kids, then I don’t mind. I just couldn’t take it if I did this to someone else, Rick. I’d rather kill myself than do this t’someone else.”

“Hey now, don’t talk like that.” Rick admonished softly, pecking another gentle kiss to Daryl’s temple. “You are not your father. You never have been and you never will be. And I believe with everything inside of me that you’d be an incredible father, the best father any child ever had. You won’t turn out like him, because you have too much goodness and morality in you to do so. And I wouldn’t let you become him, because I care too much for you to let you become something you hate.

“But you have to believe that, too. You have to trust me, and trust yourself. I want to have a child, Daryl, and I want to have that child with you, and if you don’t want a child because you’re worried you’ll be like you’re father then you just have to trust me when I tell you that that will never happen.

“And if after everything, all this talking and opening up, you still don’t want a child, for any reason whatsoever, then I’m totally fine with that. As long as I still have you beside me then I don’t need to have a child. I just wanted you to know that I love you and trust you so completely that I’d only want to have a family with you.” Rick unwound one arm and brought it upwards, carding his fingers slowly through Daryl’s hair.

Daryl sighed, all the tension and sorrow seeming to leave his body with that one exhale, and slumped even further into Rick’s embrace. He was spent from the crying, from the show and tell of his scars, and from worrying about Rick’s reaction to all of it. He was more than thankful for Rick, more than in love with the man whose arms were still wrapped around him. And as he searched his soul for the answers to Rick’s unspoken questions, he realized that he really did trust Rick, and he really did believe in himself.

“I think… I think I really do wanna have a kid, Rick. You put so much faith in me, that it makes me sorta see myself in a better light. An’ I think that you’re the only person I’d wanna take that leap with, too, because damn if I don’t love ya with everything inside of me and then some.” Daryl closed his eyes and leaned his head back, resting the back of his neck on Rick’s right shoulder.

And then Rick’s lips were moving against his own, as supple and smooth as satin, as sweet as sugar and as giving as Santa Claus at Christmastime. That kiss wasn’t filled with hunger or passion as their others had been, but was instead overflowing with pure love for Daryl, and Daryl drank it all in with something akin to gratitude.

Rick pulled back just a centimeter, his lips still brushing against Daryl’s as he spoke. “Are you absolutely sure, Daryl? You don’t need to decide now. If you need more time I’m more than willing to give it to you. I just want you to be comfortable and happy in this relationship, just as I am.”

Daryl pressed his lips against Rick’s for a fraction of a second before he responded. “I’m sure, Rick.”


	27. Brand New Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so proud of how this chapter turned out. It was everything I wanted it to be, and then some. I was literally on a roll with this chapter. The words were just flowing out of me and falling perfectly into place.   
> So I really hope you all like this as much as I do.   
> I will not apologize for the amount of fluff in here.  
> Enjoy.

Rick and Daryl faced each other as they lay in bed that night, their hands twining together between them. It was still early in the night, neither one of them very tired, and so they decided to just relax together and talk. Rick left the lamp beside the bed on, the better to see Daryl’s gorgeous face, and Daryl was enjoying the way the shadows fell over Rick’s face, giving him an almost mysterious quality.

Rick clasped one of Daryl’s hands in his own, bringing them up to his lips. He kissed at Daryl’s fingers, at his palm, and at the back of his hand, throwing glances up to Daryl’s face. Daryl was biting back a smirk, his face flushing a soft pink, and Rick was pleased by that reaction.

“So tell me, Daryl,” Rick started, pausing to press his lips to the pulse point in the other man’s wrist, “would you rather raise a boy or a girl?”

Daryl stared at Rick for a moment, his eyes going wide. This was not the nighttime conversation he had been expecting, and he was nowhere near prepared with an answer.

Daryl bit at his lip, pretending to think, nervousness fluttering through his chest. What if he chose wrong? Surely Rick had his own ideas in mind about the gender of their child; he probably already had that all figured out already. What if Daryl said the opposite of what Rick wanted? Would Rick be angry or disappointed? Try to persuade him to pick the other gender? Not that Daryl cared all that much in the first place; he’d be happy with whatever Rick wanted, anyway.

So he decided to try and play it safe: he would ask Rick whether he’d rather have a boy or a girl and then agree with whatever Rick said.

“Well, which would you want to raise?” Daryl asked, trying to be coy.

Rick chuckled, shaking his head. “I asked you first, Daryl.”

Daryl sighed, internally screaming “fuck, fuck, fuck.” Rick was going to make him say it first. He had no clue what the right answer here would be, or if there even was a right answer. Maybe Rick didn’t know what he wanted, either, and was trying to go along with what Daryl wanted? Maybe Rick would concede to whatever gender Daryl chose, to make him happy?

Now that Daryl thought about it, that was a very real possibility, considering how much Rick cared for him. Besides, this wasn’t a contest of right or wrong, this was a simple discussion. Just because Daryl chose one gender didn’t mean he would get a baby of that gender, and the same went for Rick’s choice. And maybe they would agree, after all, not just throw one suggestion out there and have one of them give in to make the other happy.

So Daryl thought about it for a few minutes, and his mind strayed once more to Sophia. She had been so sweet, and had loved him so much. She was soft and gentle, the opposite of everything he had ever been, and it made her even more beautiful to give him that contrast. And she had been so simple. She liked dolls and flowers and the color purple, and she wanted to wear headbands every day and get her ears pierced. She had seemed like no work at all, which of course was probably not true, but in Daryl’s mind she was a piece of cake. And Carol doted on her like she was one of the Queen’s crown jewels.

The more Daryl thought, the more he realized he’d want to raise a little girl. She could be his little princess, and he could spoil her the way she deserved. He’d be able to protect her, and teach her the ways of the world, and the way men thought; that way she’d be well prepared for adult life. Besides, there were two men in this relationship anyway; there really didn’t need to be a third. A little girl could be the light of their lives.

Daryl came back into reality, his eyes swimming back to focus on Rick’s face. Rick quirked an eyebrow as if to say “well?”

Daryl smiled, a gentle upward curving of his lips. “I think I’d like to raise a little girl, Rick.”

And damn if the smile that spread across Rick’s face right at that moment wasn’t the most beautiful thing Daryl had ever seen in his life. Rick leaned forward, gently pressing a kiss to Daryl’s lips.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Rick breathed, his lips brushing over Daryl’s as he spoke.

Daryl had chosen right, after all, and that made him happier than he’d been most of the day. He cuddled closer to Rick, tangling their legs together, and rested his forehead against the detective’s.

“You wanted a girl, too, huh?” Daryl asked, nuzzling his nose against Rick’s.

Rick laughed softly, returning Daryl’s affections. “Well, in my dream we were holding a little girl. That just seemed like some kind of sign to me.”

“Makes sense to me.” Daryl closed his eyes and returned his mouth to Rick’s, giving him a slow, lazy kiss.

The two kissed for a while, their mouths moving in a gentle rhythm, tongues touching to each other every so often. It was sweet, loving, and tender; it was everything they needed in that one moment.

They broke apart at the same time, grins on their faces as they caught their breath.

And then Rick made an odd request. “Daryl, could you… turn over?”

Daryl quirked an eyebrow in confusion, but obliged, rolling onto his other side so that his back was facing Rick. At first he thought that Rick wanted to make things physical, which he wouldn’t have minded, but Rick’s hand was too tentative as it rested on his hip.

Rick’s fingers toyed with the hem of Daryl’s shirt nervously, hoping that what he was about to do wouldn’t upset the redneck. In one quick motion, Rick pulled the back of Daryl’s shirt up to his neck, completely exposing his back.

Daryl gasped quietly, and made a move as if to pull away. “Rick, what are you doing?” He squirmed under Rick’s touch, feeling embarrassed.

“I just… I don’t know, Daryl. I just need to see you, all of you. I need to touch you and taste you and, in a way, try to heal you. I know you’re still self-conscious, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable; I just want to make you see that I love you for who you are, scars and all.” Rick was whispering then, his eyes taking in the marks covering Daryl’s back.

Daryl had stopped squirming around, but his chest was no less tight than it was before, and he was no more relaxed. He understood what Rick was saying, and he was grateful that Rick still loved him, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about Rick just looking at his past like that, as if he was on display.

But then Rick’s lips were trailing gently across the scar that ran between his shoulder blades, one Daryl remembered all too vividly, and he had to bite down on his lip to hold in a sob.

Rick gently lifted Daryl just enough to get the shirt off completely, dropping it to the floor beside the bed. He gave Daryl a soft nudge, asking him to lay on his stomach without saying as much, and Daryl obliged. He hid his face in the pillow, biting the covering and praying he wouldn’t cry for the second time that night.

Rick moved into a sitting position and placed both hands on Daryl’s back, his fingers trailing over each of Daryl’s scars time and time again, his palms lightly kneading Daryl’s flesh as if he was just giving him a back massage. And then Rick leaned down, softly kissing each of the scars in turn, letting his lips trail over them slowly, his tongue following behind.

Daryl shivered slightly under Rick’s caresses, clenching his hands into fists under the pillow. He wasn’t afraid that Rick wouldn’t love him anymore; quite the opposite actually. His chest felt lighter, and he could swear his internal organs had been replaced by some kind of heavenly light, one that was taking over his body and making him feel pleasantly warm. He thought that maybe this feeling inside of him was love, true love, like the kind you feel when you find your soul mate. Because that’s what Rick was to Daryl: his soul mate.

And part of him did feel healed, as if Rick’s gentle touches were erasing the scars, the pain, and his past completely. He couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan, his body shuddering once more.

Rick pulled back, worried that he’d upset Daryl, which he hadn’t meant to do at all. “Daryl, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you about this.”

Daryl let out a laugh, lifting his face from the pillow and craning his neck to see Rick. “I’m glad you did, Rick. I feel… so much lighter.”

It was a vague description of his feelings, but Rick seemed to understand what he was saying. He smiled brightly and ran his fingers through Daryl’s hair, toying with the soft strands.

Daryl pushed himself up so that he was level with Rick. He met the man’s gentle blue gaze, and was filled with that heavenly light again; there was only one thing he needed now.

“Rick, can I ask you to do something for me?” Daryl asked tentatively, his eyes still locked on the other man’s.

“Anything.” Rick replied.

“Make love to me?” Daryl’s eyes seemed to melt, going from ice to warm water.

There was something so pure, so genuine in that expression that Rick knew he would never be able to refuse the man wearing it, nor would he ever want to. Without a word, Rick cupped Daryl’s jaw, holding him in place as he pressed their lips together once more. Their mouths molded as one, the light Daryl held inside now passing between them.

Rick slid his hand from Daryl’s jaw to his shoulder, pulling back to gently guide the redneck into the same position he’d been in before. Daryl didn’t hide his face in the pillow this time, but rather laid his head to the side, closing his eyes as he breathed in deeply.

Rick ran his hands down Daryl’s back, coming to rest at his boxers. He took the fabric between his thumbs and forefingers, and Daryl lifted his hips to allow the detective to pull the garment off. Rick made quick work of Daryl’s underwear, dropping it to the side where it landed beside his discarded shirt.

Rick reached into the drawer of his nightstand, coming away with the same bottle of baby oil he’d used on their first night together all those weeks ago. He poured some on his fingers, rubbing them together to properly slick them, and then he reached down and gently pushed a finger into Daryl.

Daryl let out a soft whimper, his hips bucking back slightly. Rick smirked at the man’s uncontrolled gesture, and added a second finger beside the first, pleased when that elicited the same reaction. A third finger was added, and then Rick slowly moved all three in and out of Daryl at an almost agonizingly slow pace. Daryl was full on moaning then, his muscles clenching around Rick’s fingers.

Rick pulled back to remove his own clothes, taking much too long for either of them. Finally his own pesky garments were gone, and he poured a bit more of the oil onto his hand to thoroughly slick his cock.

He held his cock as he slowly guided it into Daryl, the noises coming out of the other man driving him damn near insane. It took a few minutes for them both to adjust, but soon enough Rick was able to thrust, slowly at first, his pace building with each stroke.

Rick got an arm underneath Daryl’s waist and hoisted him damn near onto his knees to give himself better leverage. Daryl planted his knees on the bed, spreading his legs far enough apart for Rick to fit snuggly between them, and Rick responded by getting as close to Daryl as he possibly could.

Daryl hung his head down, his hair falling into his eyes, as he moaned. His breath was already coming in short little pants, his fingers gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Rick was giving him everything he needed and more, and he eagerly pushed himself back against Rick with every thrust.

Rick moved the arm still around Daryl’s waist downward slightly, just enough to wrap his fingers around the redneck’s cock. He kneaded Daryl’s shaft between his fingers as he pumped his hand up and down in time with his thrusts. Daryl’s moans turned into quiet cries and incoherent mumblings of the words “Rick”, “more”, and “harder.”

Rick obliged Daryl, pounding into him with as much force as he could muster. He leaned forward, stabilizing himself by resting over Daryl. With every movement Rick made he kissed one of Daryl’s scars, his lips, teeth, and tongue marking Daryl’s back, making the other man his entirely.

“I love you, so fucking much.” Rick murmured, his breath ghosting over the tendrils of hair at the back of Daryl’s neck, as he came.

Rick shuddered, his hand tightening around Daryl’s cock, massaging him until Daryl cried out his own orgasm. Daryl’s knees and arms began to shake, and he whimpered softly; Rick pulled out and caught the man before he collapsed in the little puddle he’d created on the sheets. Rick chuckled as he laid Daryl down on his side, enjoying the way the redneck’s chest rose and fell almost haphazardly, his bangs falling into his eyes; Daryl did look quite amazing post-fuck.

Daryl caught Rick’s hand, twining their fingers together, and smiled wearily up at the detective. “Thank you, Rick.”

Rick chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Daryl, you never have to thank me for that. I’m more than willing, whenever you want or need it.”

Daryl shook his head. “No, I meant thank you fer lovin’ me, and fer healin’ me. I feel like a brand new man.”


	28. Even Flow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly filler so that I can start the ball rolling on everything else I have planned. I did try to add some sweet moments in there, though, so hopefully you shall be satiated.   
> Enjoy.

The next few weeks in the Grimes/Dixon household were peaceful.

Rick had a light case load at work, which mostly consisted of hunting down any of Merle’s known associates to see who had been supplying him with his drugs. He’d hauled in a few of the man’s so-called friends, who had denied ever having bought drugs from Merle or anyone else, lest they also get thrown in jail. Many of them were quick to turn against the other man, and actually volunteered to come to the trial and speak against Merle on the witness stand. Rick wrote down their names, numbers, and addresses, thanked them, and told them he’d be in touch with them; he turned that information over to Phillip, who filed them all away for the oncoming court date.

Rick and Phillip even seemed to be getting along better as friends now that Rick had confessed his relationship with Daryl. He had to talk to Phillip regularly about Merle’s case and about how they would handle the situation in court, but more often than not they’d get turned completely off topic and end up talking about something more simple, like sports or certain brands of beer that they liked. Their banter was light, and it got their minds off their strenuous jobs, and both of them were grateful for the friendship they’d formed through such unlikely circumstances.

Hell, they’d even had a few heart-to-heart moments in the midst of reviewing evidence and files.

_“You know, my brother’s gay.” Phillip blurted out, leaning back in his chair._

_Rick was stunned. He stared at his boss incredulously, trying to think of some way to respond to that odd statement. All he came up with was, “Really?”_

_Phillip nodded, closing his good eye as he took a slow, deep breath. He had a soft smile on his face, as if he were thinking of some pleasant memory; it made Rick feel more at ease, even though the conversation was sure to take an awkward turn._

_“Took a while ‘fore he told anyone. Always had to be the hero, my brother, and he knew enough to know that heroes didn’t swing that way. But one day he just decided he didn’t care what all the comic books and TV shows said, he could be a hero and a homosexual all at the same time._

_“I was the first one he told. I guess he expected me to be angry or surprised or somethin’, cause he had his face set into this real hard expression, as if nothing I said would affect him in anyway, though that wasn’t the case. But me, I didn’t really care. I knew he was a lil’ different when he didn’t bring any girls ‘round the house; he never talked about dates, either._

_“So I just gave him a pat on the shoulder, told him he should do whatever makes him happy, and if he had a boyfriend yet. I remember his face broke out of that unemotional mold and he just grinned at me, real wide. Told me he had a guy waitin’ on him at home, some apartment he’d moved into a few months prior, and they were planning on having a civil union ceremony in the next few months. He was going to go through with the ceremony regardless, he just wanted his family and friends to know about him being gay first, because then they’d all be able to show up to the event._

_“It was a lovely ceremony, and they both looked overjoyed to be together.” Phillip wrapped up his story, turning his eye back to Rick._

_Rick had to take a few deep breaths before he was able to respond. “Why are you telling me this, sir?”_

_“Just call me ‘Phillip’, Rick.” Phillip waved his hand, as if they were just two friends sharing drinks at a bar. “I’m telling you this because we’re friends, Rick, and friends tell each other about their past and their families and all that other stuff. Besides, I’d kind of like to hear about Daryl.”_

_“You want me to tell you about my relationship?” Rick was truly shocked. He’d been hiding his relationship for so long, he was almost certain he was about to fall into some kind of trap and end up reprimanded or something._

_But Phillip just nodded, completely serious. “Of course I do. I mean, Daryl is Merle’s brother; you’d think that those two would have followed the same path, but it seems that Daryl’s completely different from Merle.”_

_“Well,” Rick started, “it’s like Card said on that one episode of Burn Notice: You can take two bottles and throw them on the floor. One will crumple, shatter into a million pieces, but the other will break just right and turn into a sharp, jagged weapon. No two bottles are the same, just as no two people are the same.”_

_Phillip nodded. “I remember that episode.”_

_The two shared another glance, and then Rick began to talk about Daryl, a faint blush and soft smile gracing his face the entire time._

Aside from that, Daryl had finally gotten a job. The Rock Ridge Auto Body Repair Shop had called to ask if he was still interested in a position. They conducted a phone interview, and he was in the shop the next day, working on cars and racking up a playful camaraderie with the other mechanics as if he’d been there his whole life.

Daryl’s hours were a bit more regular than Rick’s; from the shop’s opening at eight in the morning to their close at six in the evening. More often than not he was still home and done cooking dinner by the time Rick set foot inside the apartment.

The time the men had together was spent mostly in each other’s arms, cuddling and talking about their days, or just making out (and many times, making love). They had simple lives, and a simple relationship, and they were content together.

But now that they had also decided to bring a child into the mix, they had a considerable amount of research to do. The first thing they had to do was find a woman who was already pregnant and was planning to give her child up for adoption. They spent hours perusing the planned parenthood website for resources in their area, and made a few calls to a few young girls that seemed promising.

They set up appointments to meet with the young ladies during the weekends, that way all three of them could get to know each other and see which would be the right fit for them. Their first meeting would be the following Saturday at noon in one of the Starbucks cafés that was closest to their part of the city, and both of them were horrendously nervous.

The two sat on the couch the day before their first appointment, pretending to watch TV while they cuddled into each other. Rick had an arm around Daryl’s shoulders, both of them with their feet on the coffee table, and Daryl couldn’t stop wringing his fingers together.

After about half an hour of watching the man fiddle and twitch from his peripheral, Rick had had enough. He reached for the remote and muted the television, turning his head to look into Daryl’s eyes. “Daryl, what’s the matter? You haven’t stopped fidgeting for nearly forty minutes.”

Daryl sighed, trying to break his fingers apart, raising his eyes to Rick’s. “I’m just nervous ‘bout tomorrow.”

“What’s there to be nervous about?”

“Well, what if the girl don’t like us? Or don’t think we’d be good parents, ‘r somethin’ else like that.”

Rick chuckled softly and shook his head. “Don’t worry about that, Daryl. She’s going to love us, and even if she doesn’t we have other prospects lined up. We will find the right one for us, I promise you that.”

Daryl chewed his lip for a moment, and then nodded. “Guess yer right. Just not used t’ any of this, y’know?”

“I know, love.” Rick said, pressing a kiss to the other man’s forehead. “This is all new to me, too. But try not to let it stress you out too much; after all, no matter what happens we’ll have each other, and we don’t have to face any of this alone. And always remember that I love you.”

Daryl smiled, laughing softly at how sappy Rick could be. “I love you, too.”

And then Daryl made better use of his fingers by twining them with Rick’s, and the two stayed locked that way until it was time for them to go to bed.


	29. Two Worlds Collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I will use any excuse possible to shove my personal OC into things. I hope that doesn't bother you too much, and if it does, well, to be honest, I don't actually care. I like my character.   
> Anyway.   
> This chapter is also kind of filler, I think. It's really just to get the ball rolling on things so that we can introduce little baby Grimes/Dixon and get into all the other wonderfluff (thanks for the term, ghosty) things I have planned.   
> But I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Torrey Marie White was twenty-four years old, a green-eyed beauty with a frame that would have been slim had she not been pregnant. Her hair resembled low burning embers from a dying fire, and that seemed to reflect in her personality. She was quick to make jokes, and even quicker to curse, and she laughed with the heartiness of someone who genuinely enjoys life.

She beamed at the two men as they approached her, firmly shaking their hands, her smile as bright as the day outside. Rick and Daryl liked her the second they laid eyes on her, and pulled their chairs close to hers so they could all talk in a more private manner.

“My, my, you’re both such handsome men.” Torrey said, taking a moment to sip her Caramel Frappuccino. “It’s too bad neither of you swing my way, or I’d probably be making passes at you the whole time.”

She laughed, showing them she was just joking without saying as much, and they felt more at ease. “Anyway, what do you two do for work?”

Daryl and Rick shared a glance, and then Rick took the lead, speaking for both of them. “I’m a detective, and my boyfriend works at an auto body repair shop.”

Torrey nodded as if she were taking mental notes. “That’s good. At least I know the baby will be well taken care of and will get everything it needs. Do you have a stable living arrangement? Or rather, will you have one by the time the baby is meant to come into your home?”

“Yes.” Rick stated calmly.

Torrey nodded once more, regarding the men before her. She liked them already, and some instinct inside of her was telling her that they would be perfect for the baby she was carrying. And her instincts had never steered her wrong before.

But still, she had to ask the fated question, “Do either of you have any history of drug or alcohol abuse?”

Of course, both men answered, “No,” in unison.

That sun-bright smile was back on her face. Yes, they were the ones who were supposed to adopt this baby.

“I have to ask you the same question, though.” Rick said, turning her attention back to him.

Torrey laughed softly, taking another sip of her drink. “I used to drink a lot, throw some wild parties. I never did drugs, though; cigarettes are my drug of choice. But I gave all of that up the instant I knew I was pregnant. I never planned to keep the child, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t hinder its chances for having a normal life.”

Rick nodded with a kind smile; he respected her for trying to give the child a good head-start, even though she didn’t want anything to do with it. He had to admit that if he were in her shoes it’d be hard for him to make the same decision.

“I just have one more question.” Rick said.

“Shoot.” Torrey replied, looking him dead in the eyes.

“What gender is the baby?”

Torrey sighed, a gentle blush coloring her cheeks. “In truth I don’t know. I didn’t want to get attached to this child in any way, and I knew that if I found out its gender I’d start thinking up names, and that would cause a whole other mess of problems. Is that alright?”

Rick looked over at Daryl, raising one eyebrow in question. Daryl nodded, a slight downward dipping of his chin, and Rick smiled.

“That’s just fine; we don’t mind surprises. You know, this was actually easier than either of us expected it to be.” Rick chuckled and reached over, clasping Daryl’s hand in his own. “And now it looks like we’re all set. We’d like to adopt your baby, as soon as it’s born and able to leave the hospital.”

“Wonderful. I have all the paperwork right here in my purse for you guys; never hurts to be prepared, right?” Torrey rifled through her bag, searching for the papers and a spare pen.

“Wait,” Daryl spoke quietly, but his word still caused both pairs of eyes to snap up to him. “I just have to know… does it bother you at all that your child will be going to a same-sex household?”

Rick gave Daryl’s fingers a gentle squeeze and stroked the back of his hand with his thumb, but the other man was determined to hear Torrey’s answer straight-forward. His eyes were locked on her, his cheeks flaming a vicious pink.

Torrey set her purse aside and leaned forward, folding her hands on the table in front of her. “Of all the questions you could have asked me, about anything else in the world, that’s the one you choose?”

Daryl nodded, that same stiff dipping of his chin.

“No, it doesn’t bother me. Better to have a gay couple who will love and care for this baby the way it deserves than a straight couple who could have a hundred problems in their background. I like you guys; you seem very genuine, and it’s easy to tell that you love each other very much. Most people I find don’t have that same look in their eyes as you do. Every time you two look at each other you can just feel the connection there.

“And that’s the best environment for a baby to be in. No child wants to grow up in a home where the parents hate each other and fight all the time and talk only of divorce; I know, because I lived through that. But this child will be growing up in a home born only of love, because you two are gonna make it, I just know you will.” Her eyes never wavered from Daryl’s as she spoke, and the smile that curved her lips was meant only for him.

Rick felt almost like an outsider during this exchange, the third-wheel watching as two old friends carry on a conversation he can never understand or be included in. But then she turned to him, giving him that same smile, and he was a part of them once more.

The conversation grew much lighter then, and the three of them talked about trivial things while Rick and Daryl signed the proper paperwork. They exchanged phone numbers before they left, all three of them agreeing to get together again soon, just because they could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used a major cop-out with Torrey's response to the baby's gender, because I honestly don't know what it'll be yet.  
> Voting on that is still open, so please send in your comments with whether you think the baby should be a boy or a girl. I'm going to tally them all up pretty soon, so you only have a few chapters left to state your opinion.


	30. Overjoyed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I've made it to 30 chapters. This is really a huge milestone for me, because I've beat one of my longest and most popular Dick fics (Love In A Hopeless Place, in case you're wondering) by 10 chapters now, and I don't intend to stop for quite a while.   
> Honestly, when I first started to plan out and write this story I never expected it to be longer than 10, maybe 15, chapters. But then as it started to develop and I started to come up with more ideas I realized just how much potential this story has, and there's no way I'm going to cut that short.   
> So I'd also like to take a moment right now to thank each and every one of you that is reading this story. Just to know that people are looking at my work is an incredible feeling. I'd also like to thank those of you who have left comments, and who continue to do so after each of my updates (looking at you, ghosty). Your comments help me grow as a writer. Your praise encourages me to continue updating this. Your feedback helps me improve myself. Your suggestions, ideas, and requests help me make this story all it can possibly be, and then some. I will never truly be able to express my gratitude to all of you, but I hope that my work can be a thank you in its own way. 
> 
> And now on to more trivial things. 
> 
> I have literally tried to fit this particular title to the past 3 chapters, but it hasn't worked at all until this one. This chapter's title is a song from Matchbox Twenty's newest album, North, and I think the lyrics actually work quite well for this chapter, and for Rick and Daryl's relationship as a whole. I do suggest giving it a listen, because it might make your reading experience better.   
> Also, I will not apologize for the syrupy-sweetness and fluff in this chapter. I really wanted these two to express everything we've already heard a hundred times before, but in a more heightened way, with thoughts to back up their statements. A look into their psyches and hearts, is basically what this chapter is, and I'm proud of every damn word of it.   
> So please enjoy, darlings.

“We’re going out to dinner.” Rick stated matter-of-factly as he shrugged into one of his suit jackets.

Rick was dressed almost the same as he would have been for work, but this time his hair was slicked back into perfect waves, and he wore no tie, giving him a slightly more casual look.

Daryl stood in the doorway of their bedroom, leaning against the frame, staring at the man before him. Rick looked so dashing this way, his eyes flashing with pleasant determination, and Daryl was thinking more about ruining those lushly styled locks than about a nice dinner out.

“Why do you wanna go out? I don’t mind cooking.” Daryl shrugged.

“Because we are going to celebrate finding a nice young woman who is allowing us to adopt her child the second it’s born. We are going to celebrate our future together. And besides, you deserve a night off from cooking, especially since you’re working now, too.” Rick smiled as he walked over to Daryl, brushing the back of his hand against the man’s cheek, enjoying the way he flushed soft pink.

“Does this mean I needa get all gussied-up?” Daryl pretended to pout, but he couldn’t keep the small smile off his face at Rick’s gesture.

“No, but I think you’d look awful nice in a button-down shirt and one of my ties. In fact,” Rick stepped away from Daryl, moving toward the closet. He stared at the collection of ties residing on a tie-rack on the wall, and then selected one that was a solid cerulean blue. He held the tie up to Daryl’s face and grinned to himself. “This one brings out your eyes perfectly; they’re practically glowing right now.”

Daryl rolled his baby blues and blew out a huff of breath. “Fine, I’ll wear the damn tie if it’ll make ya happy.”

“Thank you.” Rick quickly leaned forward and caught Daryl’s lips, giving him a tender kiss. “I promise to make it up to you later.”

“Just kiss me like that again and we’ll be about even.”

“Deal.”

And with that Rick returned his mouth to Daryl’s.

~ ~ ~

Rick and Daryl were comfortably curled into a corner booth at the back of some fancy steakhouse, staring at each other over the gently flickering candle in the middle of their table. Classical music filtered from speakers somewhere above them, loud enough to be heard but quiet enough not to interrupt their conversation.

Rick had ordered a pricey bottle of champagne for them, and Daryl blushed damn near every time he took a drink; he’d never been treated to such an expensive drink before.

Rick poured them both another glass, his cheeks rosy, his smile wide. He wasn’t drunk off the champagne, but rather off of life itself and all that it had offered him. Here he sat with the most amazing man on the planet across from him, and that man was all his. And not only that, but they were going to settle down and raise a family together. Rick couldn’t have asked for a better partner, a better life, and his heart felt close to bursting at how much love was flowing through it right then.

And Daryl. Well, Daryl was something else entirely. His wispy hair was parted down the middle, his bangs and sideburns waving over his face and giving him an almost cherubic look. The tendrils at the back hung almost to his shoulders now that it was completely brushed and styled, and Rick wondered if Daryl would be angry with him if he tried to give him a bit of a haircut. Not that Rick minded how long Daryl’s hair was; he just thought that the ends needed to be cleaned up a bit, cut to a more even length so that none of the strands were longer than any of the others.

Rick had been right about the tie, too. Daryl’s eyes were shining like the ocean at mid-day, and Rick could swear he would actually drown in them if he looked into them too long.

“Why’re you starin’ at me?” Daryl asked, a fierce blush coloring his cheeks as he looked down at the champagne in his glass.

“When don’t I stare at you?” Rick chuckled. “Your eyes are just so gorgeous; I’d swim in them for all of eternity if you’d let me. They’re so bright and blue and perfect, as perfect as you are.”

Daryl cleared his throat before mumbling out a quiet “Thank you.” He loved when Rick complimented him, but at the same time it embarrassed him; he never knew how to respond to such things.

“Is everything alright, Daryl?” Rick asked, reaching across the tabletop to brush his fingers against the back of his love’s hand.

Daryl looked up at Rick, slightly startled by the man’s question. Did he not seem happy? He figured it should be obvious just how wonderful he felt right now, but perhaps he was giving off the wrong signals. And he certainly didn’t want to worry Rick, or make him think that he was anything less than elated.

“Everything’s wonderful, Rick. Why do y’ ask?”

“It just seems like something’s bothering you. You’re not saying much, or looking at me for long periods of time.” Rick’s eyes clouded slightly, his concern shining through, and Daryl’s heart sank a little bit.

“I’m sorry, Rick. I really am fine. ‘M just not used t’ this kinda treatment’s all. Never been t’ such a fancy place b’fore, y’know? Think the nicest place I ever went to as a kid was McDonalds. I see how expensive everythin’ is here and I just think it’s too much fer you t’ be spendin’ on me.”

“Nothing is ever too much for you. I have no problems with spending money on you; in fact, I like to. If I could I’d give you the whole world and then some, Daryl. Because _you_ are my whole world, and you give me everything just by being with me.

“Sometimes I wonder if you truly understand just how much I love you. You are my first, my last, my everything. There’s never been anyone else like you in my life, and there never will be again, and that’s the way I want it.

“And now we’re going to be able to raise a child together. You don’t know just how… overjoyed I am right now. The future in front of me is bright and wonderful, and I will cherish every single day, every single minute, every single second of it.” Rick clasped Daryl’s hand tightly in his own, squeezing his fingers lightly.

Daryl could swear his eyes had brimmed over with tears, because everything Rick had just said was so beautiful. Rick truly was Daryl’s soul mate, and Daryl thanked God every day for bringing the man in front of him into his life. Rick was everything Daryl had ever needed and more, and he’d healed him in ways that Daryl didn’t even think were possible.

The pain of his past paled in comparison to the beauty of his future, the future he and Rick would share. He could so clearly picture them now, a few years down the road, their little child running around the apartment with a sun-bright smile that resembled its mother’s. And maybe soon after that they’d be able to pool their resources and buy a house, get a puppy, and watch the child and the dog grow up together, become best friends.

And the funny thing was that Daryl had never even considered any of that before he met Rick. Before Rick entered his life Daryl’s future was set to be so bleak. He’d have had to deal with Merle and his band of tag-along cronies; he’d have had to put up with their father when he wasn’t off with desperate waitresses; he’d have had to struggle to find, and keep, a job, and would have to hunt in the woods for food when he couldn’t get a steady paycheck.

Once upon a time he’d thought that he would make a life with Carol, move into her house and look after he daughter, try to move up a little bit in life. At the time he thought he would have been happy with her, that he would have been content with that life. But now that he knew what true happiness was he wonders how he could have ever been satisfied with that pipe-dream.

Daryl turned his eyes to Rick’s, seeing all the pure love and adoration that resided there, and the smile that broke across his face was filled with those very same emotions.

“Rick, to be honest with you, I’ll never truly understand why you love me. You could do so much better’n me, coulda had any damn woman ya pleased, an’ probably as many men, too.” Daryl held up a hand as Rick opened his mouth to protest. “That sounds bad, but I don’t mean it that way.

“What I’m tryin’a say is, I don’t know why you love me, but I thank God every day that you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know, Rick's line to Daryl "You're my first, my last, my everything" is a take on something that Andrew Lincoln (actor who portrays Rick) has actually said about Norman Reedus (actor who portrays Daryl). Andrew's exact words are "He's my first, my last, my everything," so you can see how I had to change it just slightly. But I felt that needed to be in here, because isn't that the sweetest fucking thing you've ever heard in your life?  
> Anyway, voting is still open on what gender the baby should be. So keep the opinions coming.


	31. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'd like to wish all of you lovely followers a very happy new year. Here's to more fluff, love, and fics to come in the new year!
> 
> This chapter took a different turn than what I had originally envisioned, but it was quite necessary, and I really like the way it turned out.   
> So I hope you all enjoy.

A few weeks after Rick and Daryl’s first meeting with Torrey she called them to let them know that the baby was healthy, and that the due date was tentatively set for the beginning of January. Rick asked again if she had found out the gender of the baby, to which she laughed and responded with “It’s a surprise.”

“She still don’t know, huh?” Daryl asked, smirking as Rick stared at the phone in annoyance.

“She sounded like she did, and just wouldn’t tell me. But it would make sense that she’s teasing us and just pretending to know when she really doesn’t.” Rick shook his head as he put his cell phone back in his pocket.

“Gives us just that much more t’ worry ‘bout, though.” Daryl raised a hand to his lips, his teeth nibbling at the end of a hangnail.

“What do we have to worry about in the first place?” Rick asked, taking a moment to brush Daryl’s bangs back from his face.

The two were sitting on the couch, watching some re-runs of The Simpsons on channel 13 and soaking up the other’s sense of companionship. In this episode Homer had crashed his car while trying to drive home in a blizzard, and it was just at the part where the possibly-Russian car salesman was telling him that to put the car he was test-driving into gear “H.”

Daryl blushed, still not completely used to the casual and tender touches Rick was always lavishing on him. “Well, like what are we gonna name the kid? An’ what colors ‘r we ‘sposed to decorate its room with? How are we gonna figure all that out if we don’t even know whether the baby’s a boy ‘r a girl?”

Rick chuckled softly, smoothing Daryl’s hair back once more. “Well, we can paint the room in neutral colors, like yellow or green. And we can just get a crib and a changing table in a basic color, like white, black, or brown. And as far as names go, we can talk through some options for a child of either gender. Anything special you have in mind?”

Daryl continued to bite at his thumbnail as he thought. “If it’s a boy we could name ‘im Norman.”

“Like the tattoo over your chest.” Rick said. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask, who was this Norman person?”

Daryl hesitated a moment, his hand moving over her heart to gently touch at the spot where the inked name resided. “He was my grandfather. Taught me a lot ‘bout fishin’ an’ huntin’ and that stuff. Showed me how t’ use a bow ‘n arrow, an’ even taught me how t’ properly load an’ fire a crossbow; gave me a couple lessons with guns, too.

“His house was like a sanctuary when I was little. He was my mom’s dad, see, an’ he knew how my dad was with her, with me an’ Merle, but he didn’t know how to help other’n to let me an’ Merle stay there as often as possible. He only lived a few miles away from us, back when we lived in our first house. I’d take refuge there when I knew my dad was gonna come home riled up.

“After my mom died an’ we moved I didn’t really see ‘im all that much, an’ things with my dad got a lot worse. He passed away when I was still just a kid, maybe thirteen or fourteen, but his memory, his presence always stuck with me. I always knew he was watchin’ over me from somewhere, doin’ his best t’ keep me outta too much trouble an’ such.

“So if the baby’s a boy I’d like t’ honor his mem’ry that way.” Daryl finished his story, his eyes glancing up to Rick’s for approval.

Rick smiled and leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on Daryl’s cheek. “If the baby is a boy we’ll name him Norman, for your grandfather.”

Daryl turned his face, catching Rick’s lips with his own. “Thank you.”

“What about if it’s a girl?”

Daryl shrugged. “We could always name her after her mother; Torrey’s a nice name.”

Rick nodded, contemplating. “What do you think about Judith?”

Daryl mumbled the name, rolling it around on his tongue. “Judith. I like it. Someone you know got that name?”

Rick’s smile grew sad, his eyes slipping away from Daryl’s. “Judith was my grandmother’s name. Her and I were very close. She wasn’t one of those grandmothers who would bake cookies for you and liked to knit; she was more adventurous and out-going. She would convince my parents to let me ride roller coasters with her and go watch horse races and things like that, things my parents wouldn’t normally have approved of.

“She was the reason I got into police work, too. She always taught me what true justice was, and that the line between right and wrong could become blurred sometimes, but the truth would set everything right. She told me that her father had been a sheriff in a small town, and a damn good one, too. She always looked up to him, because he was doing the right thing. I wanted her to be proud of me, so I went into the police academy as soon as I got out of college.

“But she passed away long before I graduated and came to be an officer. I didn’t stop my pursuit for truth and justice, though, and I know that somewhere she really is proud of me. I can see her smile in the sunshine that filters through our bedroom window and shines against your skin; a thing of pure beauty that fills me with nothing but happiness.” The joyful smile was back in place on Rick’s face, and he reached over, smoothing his thumb across Daryl’s bottom lip.

Daryl flushed light pink once more as he placed a soft kiss against the pad of Rick’s thumb. “If the baby’s a girl we’ll name her Judith, for your grandmother.”

Rick’s smile widened, and his lips replaced his thumb on Daryl’s mouth, sharing their second kiss in less than ten minutes. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, for those of you who are getting uppity about me not choosing Carl as the name for a baby boy, here are my reasons.   
> 1\. I don't really like the name Carl. It sounds too old for a boy so young. I mean, can you imagine looking at a cute little baby and calling it Carl everyday? I don't know, it just seems weird to me.   
> 2\. Norman Reedus really does have the name Norman tattooed on his chest, which means Daryl does, too. I think it might even be visible in a couple of shots throughout the show. So I really wanted to work that into the story somehow, instead of it just being a missing piece of the puzzle that is Daryl. I know it's not a big deal, but I wanted to make the name choice meaningful and I wanted it to really reflect who Daryl is and give away a piece of his past.   
> 3\. I really love Norman Reedus and his name, so that's kind of like my tribute to him. 
> 
> Please don't hate me too much for screwing you over with that name choice. 
> 
> Also, voting is still open on whether or not they should have a boy or a girl. You've probably only got a few chapters left with which to make your voice heard, so get commenting on it.


	32. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, kiddies, I'm still here. Don't want anyone thinking I'm dead or nothing.   
> I've just been busy and tired lately, so I haven't had the most motivation to work on anything like I'm supposed to. But I haven't abandoned this fic; I won't abandon this fic. So don't worry if I take a while to post these chapters up or anything.   
> I'm probably going to have more time to write now, too, so my updates might start coming more regularly.   
> Anyway, this chapter came out so much longer than I thought it would, which of course is a wonderful thing. So I hope you all like the longer update.   
> And I think that's all I have to say for right now.   
> Please enjoy the chapter.

“I think that maybe we should go to Babies R’ Us or Target or something this weekend, see if we can start stocking up on baby basics while we have the chance.” Rick spoke softly, his breath beginning to even out once more.

He and Daryl had just finished up a bout of particularly rough sex, and damn if Rick wasn’t completely worn out from the wonderful experience. He lay on his back, a smile plastered to his face and his chest heaving, one arm underneath his head while the other curled under and around Daryl’s broad shoulders.

“If that’s what you wanna do, then I’m all for it.” Daryl replied, leaning into Rick’s embrace and placing a few soft kisses on the man’s pectorals. “I’ve got the weekend off from the shop, anyway. Boss’s goin’ outta town for the weekend t’ see his daughter get married, so he’s closin’ up the shop an’ lettin’ us have a bit of a vacation.”

“Well, didn’t things just work out perfectly for us then? I’ve got this weekend off, too; my case load’s light enough that I could take tomorrow off, and I wasn’t scheduled for work on Sunday anyway.” Rick turned his head to look into Daryl’s eyes, smiling at the shining waters.

“Maybe the stars ‘r in our favor.” Daryl snickered, leaning up to press a kiss to Rick’s lips.

Rick returned the kiss happily, still unable to get enough of the redneck’s mouth even after how long they’d been together. “Maybe.”

~ ~ ~

Rick pulled into a parking space only a few paces away from the entrance of their local Target; he’d been lucky enough to find the spot, considering all the others were too far away to even see the front doors.

“Ready?” Rick asked, turning to look at Daryl, who was chewing on a hangnail again.

Daryl looked up, almost surprised by Rick’s very presence; wherever his head had been during the drive it wasn’t in the present. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You still nervous about all this baby stuff?” Rick smirked, laying a gentle hand over Daryl’s thigh.

Daryl smiled, seeming to take comfort from the gesture, and rested his hand atop Rick’s. “A bit. ‘S just kinda overwhelming to think about formula and bottles an’ all that stuff. How we gonna know which ones are the right ones t’ get?”

Rick linked their fingers together, giving Daryl’s a soft squeeze. “We’ll go based on instinct, just like we’ve done since the moment we met each other. They can’t be wrong if they got us this far, right? Plus all that baby stuff is labeled with the months and ages of the children they should be used for, so I think we’ll do just fine if we pay attention.”

Daryl nodded as he absorbed what Rick was saying. Rick was right, just like always, and that put Daryl at ease in a way that nothing else could. Today would be simple and easy, probably the easiest thing they’d have to deal with during this whole baby thing. And Rick would be beside him every step of the way, both of them new to this, both of them about to enter a whole new world and try to figure things out. The experience would bring them closer together, just like every other new experience before it had done the same, and every experience after would continue to do.

Daryl squeezed Rick’s fingers back and shot him a smile. He was ready.

The two exited the vehicle and made their way into the store together, linking hands as they did so; they loved each other, and they didn’t care who knew that now.

~ ~ ~

The two grown men both flushed soft pink as they asked one of the store employees where the infants section was. Neither of them knew exactly why they were blushing, but both of them thought the other looked mighty cute with all that blood rushing to their cheeks.

The employee was polite, pointing them in the right direction with a smile, their eyes removed of any judgment whatsoever. In fact, they just looked tired of being at work than anything else, and were trying to cover that up with a mask of neutrality. The employee didn’t care what the two men were doing there, or what happened in their personal lives; they were  just looking forward to clocking out in the next hour and forty minutes. Rick and Daryl both understood the employee’s plight, and understood their pain, and so they hustled away without any more questions and let the poor girl get back to her work.

The infant section was larger than they’d expected, baby and toddler clothes taking up a sea of carpeted space, other essentials taking up about nine aisles and two back walls on the tiled floor. Rick and Daryl were completely lost in this world, but were determined to wade through everything and come out unscathed.

The two had broken apart sometime between entering the store and trying to find the infants section, and now Daryl tentatively reached out and caught Rick’s hand once more, pulling their fingers back together. Rick tightened his hold on Daryl’s hand, just as determined not to lose him this time as Daryl was.

Rick looked over to Daryl as they slowly walked past the clothes, giving him a reassuring smile. Daryl returned the smile, though his eyes were somewhat jumpy, darting from Rick’s face to the tiny clothing items beside them and back again. Rick squeezed his fingers, bringing Daryl back into reality.

“Daryl, it’s alright. We’re not picking clothes out today, remember? We can do that when we know the gender of the baby. For now we’re going to look at formulas and bottles and other little things like that. Simple and easy, okay?” Rick’s voice was steady as he spoke, trying to calm the other man.

Daryl took a steadying breath and nodded. He knew this was as new to Rick as it was to him, but he couldn’t help but marvel at Rick’s calm demeanor; being a detective had clearly given him vast amounts of patience, self-control, and levelheaded-ness. Rick kept him steady, kept him tethered to the ground, kept him from bolting right back out the front doors as he partially wanted to do.

He wanted to raise this baby. He truly did. He just couldn’t help but get nervous over all of the baby stuff around them. Raising a child would be no easy task, even with Rick beside him, and he wanted to make sure that he did everything right. He wanted this kid to have the best life possible from the second it was born and on into adulthood, and he knew that, as simple as it was, even a certain type of formula could have a different effect on the baby’s body than another.

Daryl just couldn’t help but be worried. He was a worrier deep at heart; had to be with his father treating him how he did and Merle being a damn ticking time bomb. And Rick seemed cool as cucumber. Daryl admired the man’s demeanor, and wished he could encompass that same attitude towards all of this. But that was just another reason why Rick was so perfect for him; Rick was balanced where he was unsteady, and kept him firmly on his feet when he needed it most, like he did now.

“Everything alright?” Rick asked quietly, his brows knit into confusion.

Daryl blinked, realizing he’d just been staring at the man. He flushed bright pink and nodded, turning away in his embarrassment. “M’ fine. Didn’t mean t’ stare at ya.”

Rick’s fingers pressed gently against Daryl’s cheek, turning his face back to look at him. “I don’t mind you staring, Daryl. I never mind that. I just want to make sure that you’re okay. If you’re really having trouble with this right now we can just come back some other time when you feel a little better. I know how overwhelming this all is, really.”

Daryl shook his head. He didn’t want to run off like a scared little rabbit, hide from his nervousness. He had to own up to it and push himself through it. He had to be as strong as Rick. Today had turned out perfectly, anyway. The stars had aligned to give them both this day and the next off from work so that they could spend time together, and so that they could start getting ready for the baby. No, not _the_ baby; _their_ baby.

“I can do this, Rick. ‘M just havin’ a period of adjustment’s all. I’ll be fine.” A small smile spread over Daryl’s lips, something shy and still somewhat afraid but completely genuine.

And then Rick ducked his head and pressed a kiss to Daryl’s lips, not even looking around to see if anyone was near them who could see, not even caring if they did. It was a relatively chaste kiss, lasting only a few seconds with no tongue or frantic parting of lips, but the love was there between them, and that’s what really mattered.

~ ~ ~

The two men wandered down each of the aisles, taking stock of everything offered. Daryl reached out and grabbed a basket from one of the various holders as they passed one by, just in case.

“You think we should get one of these lil’ stuffed animals? Babies love soft things they can chew on and sleep with and stuff, right?” Daryl asked, giving Rick’s hand a light tug as he stopped to examine some of the little toys.

“That sounds like a great idea; I hadn’t even thought of that until now.” Rick paused to look over the toys, running his fingers over their velveteen bodies. “Which one do you think we should get?”

The selection was small, with only a few animals to choose from, but even that presented a problem for the men. There was a bear, white with a blue nose and paw pads; a cow with a fake bell around its neck; a monkey with a short tail and a green ribbon around its neck; and a lion with a flowing mane encircling its face.

Daryl seemed captivated by that little lion, and he lightly rubbed a piece of the mane between his fingers. “I like this lion. ‘Cause no matter what gender our kid is they’re gonna be tough as nails, just like us.” Daryl grinned as he picked up the lion and held it out to Rick.

Rick laughed and nodded. “Of course they will be. The lion’s perfect, Daryl; let’s get it.”

Daryl proudly dropped the stuffed animal into the basked as they moved on to the next aisle.

The next aisle held onesies, socks, little shoes, caps and mittens, toddler underwear, and towels and washcloths. They passed the clothes, socks, shoes, and underwear packages, taking note of what would be cute on their baby when it was big enough to wear such things, and stopped next to the towels.

“We’ll probably need some washcloths for the baby, and a nice little towel for after baths.” Rick said.

Daryl nodded, pulling forward a package of six small washcloths. “This one’s just got stripe and dot designs. We could get these for now, buy some larger ones later when they baby’s a lil’ bigger an’ all.”

“I like those.” Rick took the pack from Daryl’s fingers, looking over the designs for a moment, and then dropped it into the basket. “We still need a regular towel. How about that one?”

Rick was pointing to a white towel with a cute, smiling little duck on it. It was downright adorable, and would easily fit a baby of either gender.

Daryl chuckled softly at the duck’s smiling expression as he pulled it down and placed it in the basket. This was easier than he had expected; in fact, it was actually kind of fun.

They moved on to the next aisle, which contained a few more clothes and shoes, along with fitted crib sheets, mesh crib liners, and a vast array of baby blankets.

“You wanna wait on the blankets and stuff, just ‘til after we know where it’s a boy ‘r a girl?” Daryl asked.

Rick nodded, and they moved on.

~ ~ ~

“Enfamil or Similac?” Rick asked, holding up a small tub of each type of formula.

“Uh…” Daryl’s eyes widened as he looked between the two tubs, completely unable to find an answer. “I don’t know which’d be better.”

“Well, the Enfamil has this one that’s meant specifically for newborns,” Rick raised that tub slightly higher so Daryl could see that it clearly said “newborn” on the package. “But the Similac says it can be used for the baby’s entire first year, and it’s closer to regular breastmilk.” Rick’s words almost faltered, and he blushed lightly.

“Tough choice.” Daryl looked between both tubs. “Maybe we should try the Enfamil first, just ‘cause it’s ‘specially for newborns. Plus it comes in smaller tubs, so if we try it an’ it don’t work out we won’t be out as much money or powdered formula.”

Daryl reached over and pulled the smaller can of powdered formula off the shelf, holding it up to show Rick and get his approval before adding it to their items. Rick nodded, putting the two tubs in his hands back in their appropriate places, and Daryl dropped the can in the basket.

“Now we just need to find a nice bottle, and maybe a pacifier.” Rick mused, turning to face the selection of bottles behind him.

There were bottles made by at least ten different companies, each proclaiming, of course, to be the best for babies, but none of those proclamations made the choice any easier. Rick figured that they should start out with a smaller bottle, since the baby wouldn’t be able to handle as much formula with its tiny stomach at first, and Daryl agreed. That cut the search down by a wide margin, and finally the men had narrowed their options down to two choices: a short, four ounce bottle by the company Dr. Brown’s, and a different four ounce bottle by the company Tommee Tippee.

“Dr. Brown’s says its bottle design reduces colic and gassiness.” Rick read over the label. “But this other one with the weird name says it’s made of organic materials.”

“They’re both about the same, though, ain’t they? Same ounces, same purpose.” Daryl shrugged, his head starting to spin. “Get whatever you think’s best, Rick.”

Rick blew out a gust of breath through his nose, looking between the two bottles one more time. Finally, he placed the Dr. Brown’s bottle into the basket, a triumphant smile gracing his features.

“Anythin’ else we need?” Daryl asked.

Rick thought for a moment. “We could get some of the bath stuff now if you want. Probably wouldn’t hurt to pick up a package of baby wipes, too, that way we have it for the first few nights.”

“We should prob’ly get some diapers, too, that way we won’t have to rush around tryin’ ‘a get ‘em the day the kid’s born.” Daryl added.

Rick nodded, and the two made their way down to the next aisle, coming face to face with too many choices of baby soaps and wipes, among other things. The two had their work cut out for them.

~ ~ ~

After about thirty minutes of perusing and comparing one brand to another the men settled on one small package of Huggies’ One And Done Refreshing baby wipes, a box of travel sized bottles of Johnson’s baby shampoo, body wash, baby oil, lotion, powder, and Desitin diaper cream, which were perfect to use as testers until they were ready to branch out and try different types of everything, and a little package of Pampers’ Swaddlers for newborns.

Satisfied with their choices and tired from the long day of decision-making, the two men headed to the front to pay for their items.

As the headed up there, an idea struck Daryl. There was a certain something he wanted to go and find, something he wanted to surprise Rick with, and the check-out lines were just long enough for him to be able to leave Rick alone for a few minutes and go get it.

“I’ll be right back.” Daryl said, giving Rick’s arm a gentle pat.

“Where are you going?” Rick asked, quirking his brow at Daryl.

“There’s just somethin’ I wanna go get real quick.”

“I could come with you. Lines might not be so long when we get back.”

A slight blush colored Daryl’s cheeks and he quickly shook his head. “Nah, that’s okay. Won’t take me more’n a minute to grab it; ya may as well just stay here so we don’t lose our place in line, just in case.”

And before Rick could respond Daryl darted away.

~ ~ ~

Rick stood by the entrance as he waited for Daryl, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to find the other man through the crowd.

After what seemed like hours Daryl sauntered over to Rick, his hands shoved casually into his pockets and a sly smile on his face.

Rick, noticing that the redneck carried no bags, quirked an eyebrow at him. “You find what you were looking for?”

“Yep.”

“Any chance you’ll tell me what it is?”

“Nope.”

Rick shook his head at Daryl, a soft laugh bubbling from his lips. “You’re not supposed to keep secrets from your partner, you know.”

“M not keepin’ secrets from my ‘partner’; ‘m keepin’ secrets from my boyfriend. ‘Sides, it won’t be a secret fer too long, I promise.” That sly smile on Daryl’s face widened just the slightest bit and curved to the side.

Rick’s heart lurched in his chest at the sight of that side-long smile, and though he desperately wanted to know what this new secret was he no longer minded waiting for it. He would wait forever and a day to find out, all because of that damn smile of Daryl’s.

“Well, are you ready to go, then?” Rick smirked back at Daryl.

“Yep.” Daryl reached over, taking the bags from one of Rick’s hands and leaving it free for him to take hold of it once more.

They made their way out of the store and back to the car with their hands locked together, proud, satisfied smiles curving both of their lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, the official deadline for the gender voting is this chapter and the next one to come. After that I'm going to count them all up and write up the big moment when they become parents and let you all know how the majority ruled.   
> So please don't forget to leave a comment and let me know whether you want a boy or a girl (I'm not doing twins, so please stop suggesting that).


	33. Like Sugar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came out longer than I thought it would, which is pretty damn awesome for me.   
> And, surprisingly enough, I don't have anything more to say about this chapter, or about anything in general.   
> I just hope you enjoy the update.

By the time the evening rolled around Rick had forgotten all about Daryl’s suspicious behavior in Target earlier in the day, probably because Daryl was trying hard as hell to _make_ him forget. Daryl lavished Rick with kisses and gentle touches of affection, running his fingers through Rick’s hair or over the rough bits of stubble beginning to grow on the man’s cheeks, and even going so far as to give him a playful smack on the bottom as Rick passed by him on his way from the couch to the kitchen for a beer. Rick soaked up all the attention like a sponge in water, letting himself simply get lost in Daryl’s sweet kisses.

Around eight o’ clock Daryl left Rick’s side, going off to take a shower. He reached into his pocket and touched at the small object there, a tingle of nervousness flowing from his fingertips out through the rest of his body. This wasn’t the same nervousness he’d felt earlier in the day when he and Rick went looking for baby stuff; he didn’t feel overwhelmed or out of breath or like his head was spinning in dizzying, unpleasant circles. Instead he felt butterflies of excitement; he couldn’t wait to show Rick what he’d gotten.

Not wanting to ruin the surprise in case Rick happened to walk into the bedroom while Daryl was in the shower, he searched for a suitable place to hide the item, someplace Rick wouldn’t think to look.

After quietly closing the bedroom door Daryl moved over to the closet. He slid the door back, his eyes lighting on his angel wing vest, which was resting neatly on a hanger on his side of the closet. The vest had two inside pockets, one on either side of where the person’s arms would go; Rick would have no reason to go searching through those pockets.

Daryl pulled the item from his jeans’ pocket and shoved it into the vest pocket closest to himself, and then shut the closet door once more. More butterflies fluttered around in his stomach, his skin tingling like a live wire, and part of him wanted to skip the shower and just get right down to the surprise.

But at the same time Daryl wanted everything to be perfect. He wanted to be fresh and clean for Rick, wanted to smell nice and look nice and be nice for the detective. Besides, Rick had showered that morning; seemed only appropriate that Daryl should complete the circle that night.

So Daryl stripped down and turned on the shower, pausing to look at himself in the mirror as he waited for the water to warm. He scanned over his body, poking at a pocket of hardened muscle here, flexing an arm there. He was toned, fit, lithe; even he didn’t have any qualms about the shape he was in. Daryl took care of his body, and his body rewarded him for that; he felt just a little bit more proud of himself for having continued with his exercises, even now that he was completely mobile again.

He looked over his few tattoos, remembering when he got them, and why. The little demon on the inside of his bicep, meant to represent the fact that he always had a demon on his shoulder, in a way; he’d never been prone to listening to the angel on the other side, and so never felt the need to get that one to match. The little ‘x’ above his left collarbone, a literal representation of “x marks the spot.” He wonders how Rick has missed this one in particular, especially with how often they’ve had sex, but then maybe Rick hadn’t missed it, since Rick usually never fails to tease that spot with his lips, teeth, and tongue during some point of their lovemaking. The tiny star on the side of his right hand, close to where his thumb and forefinger connect at the arch, a piece of the night sky to take with him forever because he adores it so much. He even looks down to the small, coiled snake on his thigh, marking the spot where he’d been bitten by a snake oh so long ago; the snake was a harmless little Gardener, but the bite had hurt like hell; after it had been treated the marks had looked pretty damn cool to a young Daryl, and he decided to immortalize the moment for the rest of his life. And of course, the “Norman” over his heart. Daryl reached up, touching at the tattoo with his fingertips, and he knows that his grandfather is up in Heaven somewhere, smiling down on him with pride.

The sound of the water falling against the tiles had become a background noise to his thoughts, but now it snaps him back into reality. The memories are nice, but Rick is real and a part of the present moment, and Rick was waiting for Daryl to return to him.

Daryl turned to go to the shower, when a scar on his side caught his eye. This scar is long and jagged, running down his left side from just below his underarm to his hip. Daryl stared at the scar for a moment, waiting for the familiar sense of shame to wash over him, but he didn’t feel anything now. His scars no longer matter, no longer make him hate himself or his body or his life.

Rick has healed him completely. His new attitude towards his scars proves that.

~ ~ ~

Daryl wrapped a towel around his waist and shook his hair out before exiting the shower, water still dripping off his too-long locks and hitting his chest and shoulders. He felt refreshed and ready to show Rick his surprise.

He kept the towel around his waist as he opened the bedroom door once more. He cleared his throat quietly, feeling oddly jittery, before softly calling out, “Rick?”

“Yes, Daryl?” Rick’s voice echoed back to Daryl from the kitchen, and Daryl couldn’t help but snicker; figured that Rick would be off getting another beer, drinking himself into a happy headspace to celebrate all that they’d accomplished that day.

“Can ya come in here?”

The sound of a bottle being hastily set on the counter rang through the otherwise quiet apartment, and within seconds Rick was in front of Daryl, concern lining his features. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothin’ t’ worry ‘bout. I just wanted t’ show ya what I snuck off t’ buy earlier today.” Daryl’s smirk turned devious.

Understanding filled Rick’s eyes and his face lit up with excitement. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Daryl slid open the closet door and pulled whatever it was from a pocket in his vest.

Daryl turned to face Rick, a light blush coloring his cheeks, and held the small object in the palm of his hand so that Rick could clearly see it.

It was a small bottle of lubricant in an hourglass shape, and the label said that it was strawberry flavored and completely non-toxic. Rick reached out, taking the little bottle from Daryl to further examine it.

Rick’s eyes darted up to Daryl’s, surprise lacing the blue irises. Daryl flushed deeper and averted his eyes from Rick’s.

“Just figured we oughta have some real lube, ‘stead a’ that baby oil. And I thought gettin’ a flavored one might help… I don’t know, spice things up ‘r somethin’.” Daryl spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Rick chuckled at Daryl’s choice of words. “I don’t know about spicing things up, per say, but it’ll certainly make things a little bit more fun. It’s a good idea, Daryl, really.”

Daryl’s lips curved into his side-long smile, a silent thank you.

“Do you mind if we try it out right now?” Rick asked, looking up mischievously at Daryl.

“That’s what I was hopin’ for, actually.”

“Do you mind if I take the first test-run?”

Daryl shrugged. “Be my guest.”

Rick grinned then, something that could only be described as pure evil, and tugged Daryl’s towel off of his waist, throwing it down on the floor beside them. Daryl was completely naked and exposed to him, and that was the way he wanted things.

Rick opened the bottle and took a cautionary sniff, smiling when the sweet strawberry scent filled his nostrils. He tipped the bottle, pouring a small amount of the slick over his fingers and rubbing them around.

Daryl figured Rick would reach around, push a finger into him, prepare him fully, and then fuck him into blind pleasure. So what Rick did next took him completely by surprise.

Rick wrapped his slicked fingers around Daryl’s cock, gently kneading him from base to tip, as if he were trying to cover Daryl’s entire length in the slick. Not seeming satisfied by the amount of lubricant on Daryl’s cock, Rick held his palm under the half-hard member and tipped the bottle, slowly pouring the liquid over the entirety of Daryl’s length; Daryl had a fleeting thought that Rick looked like he was pouring a condiment on a hot dog, and had to stifle his laughter.

Laughter was the furthest thing from Daryl’s mind the second Rick’s fist wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly and steadily, getting Daryl rock hard within seconds. His cock felt warm and deliciously wet, and he couldn’t help but thrust his hips slightly into Rick’s fist.

And then Rick removed his hand, swallowing Daryl down with his mouth instead. Rick’s tongue lapped at the underside of Daryl’s cock, a soft moan rumbling through his throat as he did so. His lips flowed back and forth, creating the perfect amount of suction while they kneaded Daryl into acute sensitivity, Rick’s tongue never ceasing its frantic licking. Rick took as much of Daryl as he could handle, and then pulled back once more, Daryl’s cock leaving his mouth with a soft popping sound.

“This is some damn fine lubricant you picked out here, Daryl; makes you taste like fucking sugar.” Rick’s eyes had clouded over with a mix of lust and greed, the blue waters stormy.

Daryl inhaled a ragged breath over the look Rick was giving him, a moan catching in his throat when Rick returned his mouth back to his cock. He really had picked out a good lubricant, because it was making him much more sensitive to every touch and lick and suck, and fuck if he wasn’t already close to coming.

Daryl couldn’t help but run his fingers through Rick’s soft, wavy hair, watching the man work on him. Rick was a sexy sight when he was focused so intently on such a filthy task, and those cloudy blue eyes that he kept turning Daryl’s way weren’t doing much to help the redneck’s self-control. Daryl didn’t ever want to look away, but he felt that if he didn’t he’d blow right then and there.

Daryl tipped his head back, looking away just long enough to catch his breath and regain his composure. His knees were starting to get weak, his legs feeling a little bit like jelly. When he returned his eyes to Rick the man had swallowed him completely and was still looking up at him, watching him fall apart.

Daryl’s lips parted, moans and gasps tumbling from his lips almost faster than he could breathe them out. He quietly cried out Rick’s name, his way to let the man know he was almost over the edge.

Rick held on for the ride, though, raising his hands up to cup Daryl’s ass, keeping him steady and pulling his hips forward all at the same time. His head bobbed on Daryl’s length, spitting him out and sucking him right back down again at a quick pace.

“Rick,” Daryl gasped, his hand tightening in the man’s hair as he finally came, spurting over his love’s tongue.

Rick didn’t seem to mind; rather he relished the taste, his tongue swiping over the entirety of Daryl’s length and over his slit before he swallowed, never even batting an eyelash at the barrier that had just been broken between the two of them.

It was the first time either of them had ever swallowed after giving the other a blowjob.

Daryl released Rick’s hair and moved toward the bed, collapsing onto his side on the mattress. Rick smiled and laid back beside Daryl, trailing his fingers over the man’s throat and shoulder.

“So… ya swallowed. What was that like?” Daryl asked, another blush coloring his cheeks. He could do downright filthy things to the man beside him, but get him actually talking about them and he’d blush like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Rick shrugged. “It wasn’t terrible. Like I said, that lube made you taste like sugar, and you were already pretty damn sweet to begin with.” He smirked and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the other man’s lips.

Daryl smiled into the kiss, reaching out to pull Rick just that much closer to him. “Get these pesky clothes off, detective; ‘s my turn t’ try out that lube.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm thinking I might stretch out the baby thing for another chapter, that way I can actually unveil the little thing during chapter 35. I have a thing about making big things happen during chapters that end in either a 0 or a 5; don't ask me why.  
> So yeah, one more chapter after this, and then we'll reveal the gender of the baby. So make sure you get your votes in before that, people.


	34. Crossing Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, 34 is one of my favorite numbers. Just wanted to tell everyone that.   
> The chapter title is supposed to represent Rick and Daryl's last step into becoming parents, save for bringing the child home. It'll probably make more sense by the end of the chapter.   
> This chapter is also mostly filler, just a few more preparations while I figure out the next chapter, in which we reveal baby Grimes/Dixon.   
> So please enjoy this final calm before the storm.

Sunday morning found the boys curled into each other’s warmth, legs entwined, Daryl cuddled close into Rick’s chest, Rick’s arms wrapped lovingly around Daryl’s waist and back. Sunlight filtered through the open blinds, caressing Daryl’s skin and shining in front of Rick’s closed lids.

Rick blinked his eyes open with a small yawn, immediately looking down at the man in his arms. All he could really see was Daryl’s hair, forehead, and a bit of a closed eye, but that was enough to satisfy Rick. He smiled at the way the sunlight fell over the redneck’s skin, lighting over faded scars and that tattoo just below his right shoulder.

Rick didn’t feel pity when he looked at those scars, nor did he feel disgust; he simply felt love. The way he saw it, if he couldn’t look at those scars with anything but that then he didn’t deserve the man bearing them in the first place.

The two of them had come a long way from that first day in the interrogation room, Daryl gruff and barely-cooperative, Rick feigning polite interest. Daryl never spoke sharply anymore unless something was greatly bothering him and he didn’t know how to release it, and Rick never had to pretend to be interested when Daryl spoke.

Rick decided to let Daryl sleep a while longer; that would give him an opportunity to aimlessly toy with the man’s hair, gently caress his skin. And Rick did just that, reaching one hand up to trail one finger through the soft strands. He could never get enough of Daryl’s hair, how beautifully it framed his face, how incredible it felt against his skin.

Rick ran his fingers down from Daryl’s hair to his back, his fingers tracing over the smooth skin. If he didn’t know that Daryl had scars he’d never be able to tell by touch alone; to him Daryl just felt like satin, something he wanted pressed against him at all hours of the day.

Rick’s fingers danced over Daryl’s skin, twirling abstract patterns against the man’s flesh. Daryl didn’t even flinch when he awoke from Rick’s light touches, didn’t even care that someone’s hands were on his back now. He simply lifted his head and placed a kiss at the corner of Rick’s lips, bringing the detective back into the present moment.

When Rick looked down Daryl was smiling, his eyes shining along with the sun, and his expression just screamed “ _kiss me.”_ So that’s exactly what Rick did.

~ ~ ~

“What say we go out for breakfast today?” Rick asked as he rummaged through the closet.

Rick was trying to find his pair of black jeans, ones that he rarely wore because they had always hugged him a little too tightly. But he’d toned his body up a little bit recently, starting to adopt some of Daryl’s exercise routines, and he figured they’d fit a little better now. A triumphant little grunt escaped his lips as he found the jeans and tugged them up from a pile of winter sweaters lying on the floor of the closet.

Daryl yawned as he snuck up behind Rick, giving him a playful pinch to the ass. “Whatever ya want, Rick.”

Daryl waited for Rick to retrieve the rest of his clothes before he slid the doors over to rifle through his own side of the closet. His eyes lit on his angel wing vest as they had the night before, and he stared at it for a moment. Part of him really wanted to wear the vest, but another part of him that might be a bit odd to flaunt out in public.

“The vest looks good on you, Daryl. You should wear it.” Rick’s hand gently squeezed his shoulder.

Daryl glanced over at Rick, his heart swelling with love at the kind smile plastered over the other man’s face, and he nodded. He grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt without even looking at them, only briefly making sure everything matched before he pulled them on. Slowly, he tugged the vest off of its hanger and slid it over his shoulders; it still fit like a second skin.

“You do look mighty fine in that vest, Daryl. My own personal guardian angel.” Rick smirked, taking a moment to run his hand down Daryl’s exposed arm.

Daryl looked over, finally catching sight of Rick in the black jeans. His breath nearly hitched in his throat at the way the fabric hugged Rick’s calves and thighs. “Damn, detective, where ya been hidin’ those jeans our whole damn relationship?”

A light blush filled Rick’s cheeks. “You really like ‘em?”

“Fuck yeah I do. An’ I think we best get a move on ‘fore I pry those damn things right back down yer legs.”

Rick bit back a laugh, but did as Daryl suggested. They’d have plenty of time to let Daryl have his fun later.

~ ~ ~

One large and filling IHOP breakfast later and the two were back in the car, heading up to their nearest Babies R’ Us. Luck was with them again that day, because Rick found another perfect parking spot right by the entrance.

As soon as he had pulled into the spot Rick turned to look at Daryl, laying his hand lightly over the other man’s. “Are you ready?”

Daryl nodded, trying to put the smile back on his face. “Yeah, I think so.”

“It’ll be a lot different than yesterday, you know. This whole place is gonna have baby stuff stocked through to the ceilings.”

“I know. But today’s gonna be simple; just gonna get a nice crib and changing table, right? ‘S nothin’ a Dixon can’t handle.” Daryl’s smile grew just that much more genuine as he met Rick’s eyes, his determination shining through.

Rick smiled back and leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on Daryl’s lips. “Damn right, babe.”

~ ~ ~

“Y’think we should make everythin’ match in just one color?” Daryl asked as they perused the cribs, changing tables, and baby dressers.

Daryl, thankfully, didn’t feel light-headed over all the baby merchandise around them. Maybe he was just better prepared from the day before, or maybe he was now more comfortable with the idea of buying things for a child; either way, his smile was genuine and he was more than a little interested in the different styles of cribs available to choose from.

“I was thinking that, at least until I saw all the colors and such there are to choose from.” Rick replied, stroking his fingertips over the polished wood bar of a crib. “I really like this style and color, but they don’t have any changing tables or dressers to match it.”

“So how ‘bout we just let everythin’ stand on its own ‘stead of tryin’a get ‘em t’ match? Like we can get this nice wood crib, an’ a white changing table, and that black dresser over there.” Daryl nodded in the direction of the particular dresser that had caught his eye.

Rick looked over to where Daryl’s eyes had wandered. It was a rather nice bureau, painted in a soft black with three drawers; it was small enough to easily fit in the baby’s room without taking up too much space, and would still hold all the clothes and diapers they could shove into it.

“Sounds like a perfect idea to me. You wanna go grab that bureau while I get this crib?” Rick asked, releasing Daryl’s hand.

Daryl nodded and sauntered off, flagging down an employee to help him along the way.

~ ~ ~

The rest of their afternoon was spent moving everything out of Rick’s office, save for his desk, chair, and computer. Even with those things still in the room there was plenty of space left for the baby’s items, and this way either of them would be able to sit with the child while still browsing the internet or getting some work done.

Once that was finished they lugged in the bureau, changing table, and the box with all the parts to their crib. After properly positioning the bureau and changing table against one wall they dragged the crib box over to the opposite one, planning to put it up there.

There were a lot of curses spewing from Daryl’s mouth as he and Rick put the crib together, and many a stifled giggle from Rick.

“Ya think I’d be better at this shit, since I work on cars all day.” Daryl grumbled, trying to tighten a bolt in one of the crib legs.

“Cribs aren’t exactly the same as cars, Daryl.” Rick bit back a laugh, a grin stretching his lips.

Daryl peered up at Rick from his spot on the floor, giving him a look that clearly mean “shut the fuck up.” Rick said nothing more, but had to press his face into his shirtsleeve several times during the course of their building process.

~ ~ ~

“All your cursing paid off, Daryl; the crib looks perfect.” Rick wrapped an arm around the other man’s shoulders and pulled him close, placing a smacking kiss on his stubbly cheek.

Daryl smiled proudly as he looked over his work, his arms crossed in an air of triumph. The crib really did look great, and when he’d shaken it to test the strength and set-up it had been steady as a rock. The two men could rest assured that their child would be perfectly safe in it.

Rick and Daryl stood in the doorway for a few moments, simply admiring their baby’s room and basking in the other’s presence.

“Can’t believe we’re really adoptin’ a child.” Daryl mumbled, his tone one of awe.

“It feels very surreal to me, too.” Rick said, resting his cheek against the redneck’s shoulder.

Daryl smiled and wrapped an arm around the detective, his hand coming to rest at the man’s hip. His fingers skirted the edge of Rick’s jeans playfully. “You know, Rick, you’ve had a long day in these jeans. What say I pry ‘em off for ya?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that this is everyone's last chance to vote on what gender you think the baby should be. 
> 
> Shameless self-promotion: I just started working on a Walking Dead/Boondock Saints crossover fic called Bleed It Dry. It's probably going to be filled with a lot of sex and drama and angst, because that stuff's just too fun to write. It's a multi-pairing thing with Connor/Murphy, Murphy/Daryl (the rarest gem to find here), and Daryl/Rick. So I implore you all to go take a look at what I have so far and let me know what you think.


	35. My Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, we're finally going to reveal the gender of baby Grimes/Dixon. Are you guys ready for this? I hope so.   
> I tallied up everyone's votes from both here and fanfiction.net, and one gender was favored much more than the other.   
> So I hope you enjoy this chapter, and are pleased with the gender of the baby.

Torrey called the boys a few weeks before the assumed due-date to let them know that everything was still running smoothly, the baby was still healthy, and that they should finish all preparations within the next few days because babies were notorious for arriving before schedule.

Rick and Daryl thanked her for the information, and then spent a good half hour talking in rushed sentences, their excitement at soon being able to hold their baby and raise it as their own bubbling over the surface. They even placed bets on whether the baby would be a boy or a girl; Daryl surprised them both by placing his bet on a girl.

Their lovemaking that night was passionate, their hands never stilling on the other’s body, their mouths practically fused together through the cells themselves. It was the same as every time before, yet also different, more special somehow. It left them breathless and gasping with grins on their faces, their hunger not quite satiated.

Rick continued to go to work as usual, though he did speak to Phillip about getting some time off once the baby was born and brought to the house. Phillip was understanding about the situation, offering Rick his sentiments of congratulation and saying he could easily afford to take a week or two off, considering Merle’s court date wouldn’t be for another month at the very least. Phillip even offered to take Rick out for a round of beers after work that night, an offer that Rick accepted without hesitation. He felt light, buoyant, and the small celebration with his boss, or rather his friend, only helped to put him into a much better headspace.

Daryl put in a two-weeks notice the day after Torrey called. The shop owner was sad to see him go, but expressed happiness over the circumstances for which Daryl had to leave. The owner told Daryl that he always had a job at the shop should he ever need it again, and Daryl thanked him profusely. He cashed his last check and put the money right into the back, along with the majority of all his other checks, letting it sit and wait for the baby to need it. It wasn’t like a college fund or anything, it was much too small to be something like that, but it was there if they ever needed an extra pack of diapers or some infant cold medicine. Good for emergencies, or spoiling a happy baby sometime in the near future.

The two men were as prepared as they could possibly be. The only thing they hadn’t figured out was how to shut off their nerves so they could get a decent night’s sleep.

~ ~ ~

The call came in on the house phone first.

Daryl was in the baby’s room, checking over the sturdiness of the crib and the room’s few other contents for the hundredth time, when the phone rang. At first he thought that maybe it was Rick, but he knew Rick would just contact him via cell phone if he had something important to say.

A flurry of excitement and anxiety constricted his stomach into knots. Was this _the_ call, the one that would let them know their baby was almost a part of this world?

Daryl rushed to the phone, having to keep his voice in check as he answered, “Hello?”

“Daryl, is that you?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh good. This is Torrey. Is Rick with you? He should hear this, too.” There was something in her voice, something so soft he barely caught it. Her voice had wavered slightly, as if she was trying to control her voice, too. She sounded like she was trying to fake being calm when really she was breaking down inside.

“Nah, he’s still at work. What’s wrong? Is the baby alright?” Daryl was starting to feel panicked, his worry shining through.

“Oh yeah, this baby’s just fine. Little thing’s trying to tear me open to get out is the only problem. You might want to grab Rick and get down to the hospital in the next few hours because you two are going to be parents pretty soon here.” Torrey inhaled sharply as she finished speaking.

Daryl didn’t know how all that pregnancy stuff worked, but he did know that childbirth was extremely painful, and he couldn’t even imagine what the poor little redhead had to be going through right now just to make his and Rick’s dream come true. He would thank her for it when this whole thing was over and she was more capable to handle such gratitude.

He thanked her for the heads up and ended the call, immediately dialing Rick’s cell number.

“What’s wrong, Daryl?” Rick answered, concern coloring his tone; Daryl never called him at work, so this had to be a real emergency.

Daryl almost choked on his words, he could hardly believe he was saying them. “Baby’s comin’, Rick. I’m gonna get down to the hospital. Meet you there?”

Rick was stunned into silence for several seconds. He could vaguely hear Daryl saying his name once, but it didn’t quite register. Finally he came back to himself.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you there.”

~ ~ ~

Daryl paced around the waiting room, hands clasped tightly behind his back, teeth firmly planted in his bottom lip. He’d been there for about forty-five minutes already, opting not to even come close to the room where Torrey was pushing out his and Rick’s little bundle of joy. Rick still wasn’t there, and Daryl’s pacing hadn’t stilled for nearly half an hour.

Rick burst through the double doors, surprising the hell out of the few nurses at the reception deck and the one or two other patients in the room, his eyes immediately locking onto Daryl’s fluid form.

“Daryl,” Rick called out, remembering to keep his voice pitched low so as not to disturb everyone else.

Daryl’s head snapped up so fast Rick was afraid his neck would snap. But Rick didn’t have time to worry about that, because suddenly Daryl was lurching forward, throwing himself into the detective’s arms and pulling him in for a close, tight hug.

Daryl’s entire body was shaking as he clung tightly to Rick, his breath coming in short little pants. He was freaking out, going right over the edge, and all he could think to do was hold onto Rick as if the man was his life-preserver.

Rick wrapped his arms around the redneck, rubbing soothing circles into his back. He would be strong for Daryl, be there to catch him when he fell apart, because somehow that’s what both of them needed. Daryl needed to shatter into a million pieces and Rick needed to put him back together; it was just how they worked.

“Shh, it’s alright, Daryl. Let’s go sit down in the cafeteria, alright? Maybe a glass of water will help you calm down.” Rick murmured into Daryl’s ear, never ceasing his rubbing of the man’s back.

Daryl swallowed roughly, trying to find his voice, and finally managed to croak out something sounding like “okay.” He pried himself away from Rick, keeping a tight grip on one of the man’s hands, and let himself be led to the cafeteria.

~ ~ ~

“Feeling any better?” Rick asked, laying his hand over Daryl’s forearm.

Daryl had gulped down two glasses of water and was now staring into the third. He seemed to be contemplating the water itself, or perhaps just the slight reflection of himself that he could see in said water.

He glanced up at Rick’s touch, his eyes tumultuous, and managed to nod. Rick smiled reassuringly, and Daryl attempted to smile back before his teeth sunk into his bottom lip again.

Rick moved his hand up from Daryl’s forearm to his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Daryl, tell me what’s wrong; let me help.”

Daryl started to shake his head, caught himself mid-gesture. He didn’t need to close himself off anymore, pretend everything was fine. He could open up to Rick, let Rick fix everything broken inside of him. He just had to get used to that concept still.

“Just can’t believe the day’s finally here, y’know? We could be parents in another three seconds or three hours, ‘n the waitin’s killin’ me. We still don’t even know the little thing’s gender. It’s all just gonna be one big surprise, an’ I’ve never been much for surprises.” Daryl shook his head, this time at himself. “An’ I guess I’m still worried that I’m gonna fuck something up with this kid. I mean, I believe ya when ya say ya won’t let me, Rick, but I guess I just ain’t ever been able t’ put s’much stock in myself.”

“Well, it’s zero hour, baby. You’ve got to try to have some faith in yourself. You’re going to be an amazing father, Daryl, I know you will.” Rick slid his arm over Daryl’s shoulders and pulled him close, pressing a tender kiss into the man’s temple.

Daryl slumped into Rick’s embrace, and Rick caught him easily. Rick tightened his hold on the man and held him close, raising a hand to card his fingers through Daryl’s hair.

“Bet you’ll even make a better parent than I will.” Rick whispered, his breath ghosting over the tendrils of Daryl’s hair. “Bet you’re gonna dote on that kid so much it’ll be just as spoiled as one of those snobby rich kids you always see on TV. There’s so much kindness inside of you, Daryl, so much love just waiting to reach the surface. You’ve just gotta unlock it and let it flow free, like you do with me. It’s that simple. Everything else we can figure out as we go along.”

Daryl nodded, his head brushing against Rick’s chest. “If you say so Rick; I trust you.”

~ ~ ~

Rick twined his fingers with Daryl’s as they stood outside of the viewing area of the infants’ room, squeezing gently.

After all the time they’d waited, all the time they’d prepared, they were finally parents.

A few nurses had found them in the cafeteria, holding hands and laughing about nothing in particular, fifteen minutes prior. After that the laughing stopped, a sort of sobriety taking its place. They were still elated, but having their dream actually become a reality was a very humbling experience. They’d been standing outside of the infants’ room ever since, staring at their baby.

“Can’t believe we’re really parents.” Daryl mumbled, his eyes glued to the small child just beyond the window.

“I can’t either.” Rick replied, a lone tear streaking down his face.

He reached up to wipe the tear away, the gesture catching Daryl’s eye. Daryl turned to look at Rick, squeezing the man’s hand just a little tighter.

“You okay?” Daryl asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

Rick nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “I’m just so happy, Daryl. Actually ‘happy’ doesn’t even begin to cover what I’m feeling.”

And then he leaned forward, capturing Daryl’s lips in a passionate kiss. Daryl returned the affection, and when they pulled back they were both smiling brightly at each other.

They turned their attention back to the window, back to the baby with the shock of red hair and green eyes that captured the world.

Back to Judith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't want a girl then I'm sorry, but that's what the majority chose. Luckily for me the majority ruled in my favor, because I really wanted it to be a girl in the first place.   
> Was this whole baby thing worth the wait to you guys?


	36. This Is My Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have much to say for this chapter, except that if you think this is sweet and cute then you ain't seen nothing yet. I'm going to make this fic so sickly sweet it'll give you diabetes.  
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter.

The two men were smitten with Judith from the moment they laid eyes on her, and that bond only grew as they held her in their arms for the first time. Rick wanted to let Daryl hold the little girl first, but Daryl wanted to let Rick hold her first; in the end the linked their arms together, creating a sort of cradle so that they could both hold her at the same time.

Judith was small, wrapped in a pink hospital blanket, a fine smattering of bright red hair already forming on her little head. Her eyes were a bright shade of emerald, matching her mother’s perfectly, and the men could swear she was already able to smile up at them. One loo into her wide, newborn eyes and they were enslaved to her.

They had to wait a few days before they could take her home from the hospital, but neither of them minded that too much; after all, they wanted their baby to be as healthy as possible from the moment she was born and onward into the future.

They stopped by the hospital every day, always going straight to the viewing window of the infants’ room to catch a glimpse of their little girl. After that they wandered to Torrey’s room to keep her company. She was always in high spirits when they came by, smiling at them and inviting them to come watch some mindless show with her, since she had nothing better to do for a while.

“So what’d you name her?” Torrey asked, sitting upright and cross-legged on her bed, her hospital gown pulled down over her knees.

“Named her Judith.” Daryl piped up, his hand snaking into Rick’s.

Rick threw a smile at Daryl, squeezing his fingers, before returning his attention to Torrey. “She’s named after my grandmother. I thought it’d be a nice tribute to her.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.” Torrey smiled, sun-bright and all-encompassing; the two men hoped Judith’s smile would be that beautiful once she was fully able to form one. “What would you have named the baby if it were a boy?”

“Does that really matter?” Rick chuckled.

Torrey shrugged. “Not really. I’m just curious is all. If I’m being honest, I had my own names in mind; I just didn’t want to think about them too much and start getting attached to the baby, you know?”

“What were the names you were thinking of?” Daryl asked.

“You first, gentlemen.”

Daryl rolled his eyes, but obliged the redhead anyway. “If the baby was a boy we were gonna name him Norman, after my grandfather. Your turn.”

Torrey nodded. “Well, if I’d decided to keep the baby I would have named a girl Amy and a boy Gabriel. Or maybe Michael.” She shrugged again.

“Those are nice, too. Any meaning behind them?” Rick asked.

“Not really; I just like the way they sound.” Torrey blushed softly, turning her gaze to the sheets around her.

And so things carried on that way for about three days, until both mother and child were able to be released from the hospital.

~ ~ ~

“Are you hungry, Lil’ Asskicker?” Daryl cooed at the baby girl one morning as he plucked her from her crib.

Daryl had been up since Judith had started crying around two in the morning, the lack of sleep not seeming to phase him in the least. Rick, on the other hand, had made sure Judith was alright and then promptly gone back to bed, collapsing face-down on the mattress and leaving Daryl to deal with things.

Daryl didn’t mind the added responsibility of taking care of the baby late at night. Rick was already exhausted because of his work schedule, and he deserved this mini-vacation of sorts while they bonded with their child. Rick wouldn’t be going back to work for another two weeks, at least, but he still needed the rest.

Judith raised one small fist, moving it in a slow arc, almost as if she were trying to touch Daryl’s face. Daryl smiled, kissing her on both cheeks, and she made a soft sound of happiness. He touched a hand to her bottom, checking to see if she was still dry, satisfied when he found that she was.

Daryl cradled her in one arm as he padded through the silent apartment, humming quietly under his breath, making his way to the kitchen. He’d become quite adept at fixing up a bottle with only the use of one hand, and he did so now, carefully scooping the recommended dose of powdered formula from the tub and dumping it into her bottle. He pulled the special distilled water for infants from the fridge and poured it on top of the formula, measuring it carefully so as not to have too much powder and not enough water, or vice-versa. Once that was finished he re-screwed the nipple cap onto the bottle and shook it vigorously, making sure everything was mixed to perfection.

“You want it warm today, sweetheart?” Daryl asked just because he could, not caring that she wouldn’t actually answer.

Judith answered in her own way, making grabby-hand gestures toward the already fixed bottle. She was an intelligent child; she already understood that the bottle held her current food source, and she didn’t seem to mind whether it was warmed up or served cold, as it was now.

“Alright, don’t gotta warm it up. No need t’ get impatient.” Daryl tickled her tummy before holding the bottle to her lips.

He walked slowly around the apartment while Judith drank her breakfast, going to the doorway of his and Rick’s bedroom to check on the man. He stood at the threshold, the door ajar just enough to give him a clear view of the man still seemingly passed out on the bed.

“Daddy’s lazy, isn’t he?” Daryl teased, keeping his voice pitched low.

Judith’s eyes rolled to Daryl’s face at the sound of his voice, and she continued to drink her formula.

“I’m not lazy.” Rick’s muffled statement had Daryl chuckling under his breath.

“Then why ya still layin’ around, huh?” Daryl nudged the door open with his foot and made his way inside, coming to stand by the bed.

Rick raised his head and yawned, rubbing at his eyes with the back of one hand. “Maybe because it’s early and I’m exhausted. How you can be woken up at two in the morning and then stay up all night and be perfectly fine right now is beyond me.”

Daryl shrugged, tipping the bottle so that Judith could easily get more of the formula. “I’ve always been more of a night owl, I guess. Bein’ up late don’t bother me, an’ neither does stayin’ up all night. I’ll probably end up crashin’ later this afternoon, though.” He smirked, glancing between Rick’s face and Judith’s. “Truth is, I’d wake up fer this every damn day of the week, miss countless hours of sleep, all t’ get t’ spend this time with her.”

Rick swung his legs around the side of the bed and got to his feet, wrapping one arm around Daryl’s shoulders. He gripped Daryl’s chin gently with his thumb and forefinger, tipping the man’s face toward him, and placed a tender kiss on his lips. “Told you that you’d be a great father, Daryl.”

Daryl flushed soft pink, his gaze returning to the baby in his arms. “What d’ you think, Lil’ Asskicker? Think I’m doin’ a good job?”

Judith just smacked in response as she continued to suckle the nipple on the bottle.

“Why’re you calling her ‘Lil’ Asskciker’?” Rick asked, quirking one eyebrow in amusement.

“Cause I’ve got my life-sized Asskicker right here.” Daryl bumped Rick’s hip with his own, a grin curving his lips.

Rick couldn’t help but laugh. “So you think of me as ‘Asskicker’, huh?”

“Well you can sure kick my ass, if you get my drift.” Daryl winked at Rick, making him blush.

“Then that makes you my Asskicker, since you do the same to me all the time.” Rick replied, moving the arm around Daryl’s shoulders down to the man’s hip, pulling him closer.

“See, that’s why the nickname’s perfect. We’re both each other’s Asskicker, so it only figures we’d have a Lil’ Asskicker to match.” Daryl removed the bottle from the baby’s lips as she stopped drinking, gently moving her up to his shoulder to burp her.

He rubbed her back in soothing circles until the tiny hiccup of a gas bubble escaped her body. He cradled her in his arms once again, his smile beaming, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “That’s a good Lil’ Asskicker. All full from breakfast, ready to start the day.”

Judith raised her fists as she had before, unsure of her movements but looking happy all the same.

Rick dipped down, pressing kisses into her cheeks and forehead and onto the tip of her nose. “Sweet little Judy.” He murmured, running his fingertips over her penny-colored hair.

Rick straightened up once more and placed a smacking kiss on Daryl’s cheek. “Sweet little Daryl.” He chuckled, squeezing the redneck’s hip.

Daryl rolled his eyes, causing Rick to laugh even harder.

They were one perfect, happy family. This was their paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to cut this story short by a mile and end it here. I just don't feel this story anymore, and I can't force myself to write something I'm not 100% into. I wish I could complete this, bring the whole thing to fruition, because I did have some big plans for this fic, but this just doesn't seem all that important anymore.   
> So for those of you who begged me for a Dick fic with a happy ending, you get your wish. 
> 
> And now to try and cut this goodbye short, here's the song list for the chapter titles, just like always. Album names that are known to me are in parenthesis.
> 
> 1\. What's The Matter Here - 10,000 Maniacs (In My Tribe)  
> 2\. Sooner or Later - Breaking Benjamin (We Are Not Alone)  
> 3\. What Lies Beneath - Breaking Benjamin (Dear Agony)  
> 4\. Days Go By - Keith Urban  
> 5\. Alone Together - Fall Out Boy (Save Rock and Roll)  
> 6\. How Much Is Real? So Much To Question - Lyric from the song Through Glass by Stone Sour (Come What(Ever) May)  
> 7\. Once Bitten, Twice Shy - Great White  
> 8\. The Last Thing I Had Was You Whispering Goodbye - Lyric from the song Not Gonna Die by Skillet (Rise)  
> 9\. Who's Going Home With You Tonight - Trapt  
> 10\. Remedy - Seether (Karma and Effect)  
> 11\. Sometimes You Gotta Risk It All, Let's Risk It All - Lyric from the song Risk It All by Escape The Fate (Ungrateful)  
> 12\. The Dance - Garth Brooks  
> 13\. Recover - Device (Device)  
> 14\. Raining On Sunday - Some old country song by a singer I no longer remember. My apologies.   
> 15\. Bang The Doldrums - Fall Out Boy (Infinity On High)  
> 16\. Speak - Queensryche (Operation: Mindcrime)  
> 17\. Torn - Disturbed (Indestructible)  
> 18\. Phase - Breaking Benjamin (Saturate)  
> 19\. Cry Of Achilles - Altar Bridge (Fortress)  
> 20\. Down With The Sickness - Disturbed (The Sickness)  
> 21\. You're The Weight Beneath My Sin - Lyric from the song Weight Beneath My Sin by Five Finger Death Punch (The Wrong Side of Heaven and the Righteous Side of Hell Volume 2)  
> 22\. I'll Never Let This Go - Lyric from the song Let This Go by Five Finger Death Punch (The Wrong Side of Heaven and the Righteous Side of Hell Volume 2)  
> 23\. A New Beginning; Can You See It Through My Eyes - Lyric from the song My Heart Lied by Five Finger Death Punch (The Wrong Side of Heaven and the Righteous Side of Hell Volume 2)  
> 24\. Matter Of Time - Five Finger Death Punch (The Wrong Side of Heaven and the Righteous Side of Hell Volume 2)  
> 25\. Coming Down - Five Finger Death Punch (American Capitalist)  
> 26\. Can You Help Me Unbend? I'm So Scared That I'll Never Get Put Back Together - Lyric from the song Bent by Matchbox Twenty (Mad Season)  
> 27\. Brand New Man - Brooks & Dunn (Brand New Man)  
> 28\. Even Flow - Pearl Jam (Ten)  
> 29\. Two Worlds Collide - Lyric from the song Two Worlds by Disturbed (The Lost Children)  
> 30\. Overjoyed - Matchbox Twenty (North)  
> 31\. Memories - Panic! At The Disco (Vices and Virtues)  
> 32\. Changes - Yes (90125)  
> 33\. Like Sugar - Matchbox Twenty (North)  
> 34\. Crossing Over - Five Finger Death Punch (War Is The Answer)  
> 35\. My Child - Disturbed (Asylum)  
> 36\. This Is My Paradise - Lyric from the song My Paradise by The Outfield
> 
> And that's all of them. Well kids, it's been a fun ride. Thanks for all the memories.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this isn't what you usually get from me, but if you could leave some feedback on it, regardless, that would be great.


End file.
